Chapter 4

By 12:30, Emma knew that she wouldn't be getting back to sleep. She'd been lying there for nearly forty-five minutes, unable to find the comfort necessary to nod off. Her bed felt cold, empty, and hollow. It was how she felt, too.

For a little while, trying to help, she'd pretended that it had all been a nightmare. She'd closed her eyes telling herself, He's asleep. It's too late to call him to tell him about that terrible dream you had. You can tell him tomorrow morning at breakfast. You're going to go to Granny's together, and he's going to eat the woman out of bacon again. You'll laugh, and then you'll see him smile, and you'll feel silly for ever having believed for a minute that he could possibly be dead.

For a few minutes, she'd believed her fabrications. But then she'd heard the door downstairs open and close, she'd heard her parents talking in hushed voices, and reality set back in. They were probably talking about her, trying to figure out how to comfort her, or how to bring her back from her sorrowful state.

But nothing could bring her back from her sorrowful state. Nothing in the world could make her feel better. She wasn't sure how she was still crying; she thought the tears must have dried up long ago. But they still flowed like a constant, steady stream down her clammy cheeks. Happiness felt like a lifetime away.

She heard heavy footsteps coming towards her, and quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep. The last thing she needed was for someone to come and check on her. The second they saw her in her miserable state, they'd be weighed down with worry, and then she wouldn't be able to convince anyone to stop fussing over her. She wanted to be left alone so that she could grieve in peace.

"Emma?" she heard David's soft voice from above her. He sounded concerned, but not as frightfully worried as her mother had. Emma evened her breathing, which was a difficult task considering the tears, and kept her face straight. She would not let him think she was awake.

"Emma?" he tried again, placing a large, strong hand on the small of her back. Emma made no response, but part of her wondered why David was trying to wake her. That didn't seem like the overly worried father she'd become accustomed to. Any other time, he would've said she needed rest, and wouldn't have let a soul come to wake her. She didn't understand the sudden change of tactic.

"Emma, please?" pleaded David, an edge to his voice. "You know I wouldn't wake you if it wasn't important."

Emma sighed; so something was wrong and they needed her to fix it. What else was new? Even though she was exhausted and emotionally drained, she was going to have to get up and fix the rest of the world's problems. Typical.

"What, David?" groaned Emma exasperatedly, turning so that she was lying on her back. Her father was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching her with careful eyes. He didn't appear to be fretting for the fate of the entire town, so that was a good sign.

"How are you doing?" he asked her, taking her small hand in his and squeezing it tightly. He conveyed so much support with that simple grasp. Emma felt strengthened by his resolve, and sat up slightly.

"I'm fine," she lied through her teeth, her eyes downcast. "I'm fine." she repeated.

This time, it was David's turn to sigh. He waited until she met his gaze to say, "You know, I might not have your 'super power', but I can tell when I'm being lied to."

Emma broke down a little more, no longer having the strength to fight. She said, "What do you want me to say, David? No, I'm not okay. No part of me is okay. I feel like I've been punched in the gut. I feel like my heart's been ripped from my chest. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I can't just move on. So I wish people would stop expecting me to!" By the end of her tirade, Emma's eyes were wide and filled to the brim with more tears. She had never cried so much in her life. The lights flickered on and off several times, reacting to the magic within Emma that was tired of fighting.

"No one is expecting you to move on, Emma," swore David, his voice never wavering. He came a bit closer to her, pushing her hair out of her face. "We all understand what you've just gone through. We're here to for you in every way that we can be. All we want is to help you get through this."

"Thank you," whispered Emma fervently, falling back to her pillows. "Then you can help me by leaving me alone."

"I will," promised David. "But first, I need to ask you a question. And I need you to be completely honest with me, okay? Because a lot of people are depending on your answer."

Emma immediately picked up on the seriousness of what David was about to ask her. She nodded solemnly, her eyes drying slightly. She had to be strong for her father.

"Emma," he began. "Did you ever do or say anything to Rumplestiltskin that might cause him to believe that you were relieved by Hook's death?"

Of all questions, Emma had not been expecting that. Her breath whooshed out of her in astonishment, but she quickly recovered. Anger swelled within her with a mighty passion. "What the hell kind of question is that? David, do you even realize what you're saying?" Emma began to cry once more, this time out of anger. "A part of me died today! I feel like I'm never going to be whole again. The man I love just died in my arms. And you have the nerve to ask me if I'm relieved? Where did you get that idea? And for that matter, where did Gold?!"

Strangely, and surprising Emma even further, David began to smile. He seemed so genuinely pleased by her answer that Emma wondered if her father had finally snapped. He turned to the entrance of her room, and called out, "See, I told you. I know my daughter. So come in here and face her, why don't you?"

Moments passed, but no one answered David's call. Emma turned from the hallway to her father, concern etched onto her face. "Uh, David? Who are you talking to?"

David, irritated, instructed, "Stay right here," before dashing from the room in search of someone. Emma pulled the covers around her once more and turned away.

David was almost downstairs again when he noticed Hook leaning heavily against one of the walls in the hallway. He was where David had left him before going to talk with Emma. David approached him angrily, saying, "Way to go, Hook. You just made me look like a fool in front of my daughter. Why didn't you come in? You heard her say how she feels."

Hook closed his eyes to hide the pain in them from David. He whispered, "Yes, I heard her, mate. But I couldn't face her."

"Why not?" asked David, obviously furious. "In case you couldn't tell, she needs you, Hook. Go in there and make things right by her."

"I have put her through so much pain," replied Hook miserably, his head falling to rest upon his knees. "I did that to her."

"No," disagreed David. "You didn't. Rumplestiltskin did that to her by cursing your hook. You couldn't have changed what happened even if you tried. The important thing is that you're alive. You may have been gone from her for a little while, but let me share with you some advice I've gathered from years of experience. You will always find each other." And with that, David went downstairs to be with his wife, leaving Hook to face Emma by himself.

Emma heard David's stern tone from the hall, but didn't focus on his words. She was trying desperately to go to sleep so she could try to face a new day in the morning. She would wallow in her self-pity when she was alone, but she had a son and a family that she had to be strong for, and she wouldn't let herself fail them.

She heard heavy footsteps approaching her once more. She didn't want to talk to her father again, however; she was just going to have to be honest with him that what she wanted more than anything was to be left alone. She mumbled into the pillow beneath her cheek, "David, I really appreciate your concern, but can you please let me try to go to sleep?"

"Only if you make some room in that bed for me too, love."

Emma's heart reacted to the voice before her mind did. She could feel her pulse increase to nearly a hundred miles per hour, the sound thrumming through her head. Her breathing was picking up, but she wouldn't let her thoughts be clouded. She was probably sleeping again; this dream was too good to be true.

"Please," she whispered hoarsely, cringing at the cracks in her voice. "Please go away. It'll hurt more when I wake up if you don't."

"There's nothing to wake up from, Swan," said Killian gently, sitting on the mattress where David had been just minutes before. "You're entirely coherent, I assure you."

"That's impossible," sighed Emma in agony. "You're dead."

"Unless I'm not," quipped Killian lightly, pressing his good hand to Emma's forehead. He saw her squeeze her eyes shut as tightly as she could. It broke his heart when he saw a tear sneak from beneath those lids. He said, "Won't you even look at me, love?"

"You're not real," replied Emma, her voice an octave higher than it normally was. It was obvious that she didn't believe he was really there, but she didn't fight him when he laid the length of her bed and wrapped his arms around her. Dream or not, the feeling was too wonderful to shatter.

"Another time, I'll show you how real I am, Swan," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath tickling her. The innuendo was blatant, but Emma didn't reply. Killian chuckled sadly, "But for now, I'll settle for having you in my arms."

"But you won't be here when I wake up," said Emma, already beginning to fall asleep in Killian's strong embrace. She felt him shift slightly, probably removing his hook as the next sound she heard was metal hitting her bedside table. This was the most realistic illusion her dreaming mind had ever conjured. She knew she would pay for it later, but for now, she would allow herself the luxury of Killian's company. Besides, it was so much easier to fall asleep when she was with him, real or not.

"Aye, perhaps not," allowed Killian sleepily. The man had had so much to drink only a few hours earlier, it was no surprise that he, too, was nodding off. "Guess you'll just have to wait until morning to find out, won't you?"

I cringe at how cliché this probably was, but it was the only way I could think of to get these two back to a point where the Captain Swan fluff can commence! My biggest priority is making these characters feel realistic thoughts and emotions, which is quite difficult to achieve when considering the situation I have placed them in. I'm sorry for the delay in this post, I must have written this chapter five different ways, but I wasn't pleased with any of them. This was the best that I knew I was going to be able to do for this chapter. I know Emma hasn't had her major reunion-feelings yet, but fear not! That chapter is coming out next :) that'll be the fun one to write, when she and Killian can be truly reunited (you know, when they're not kinda drunk or half asleep). In any case, bear with me, because believe me, you won't be disappointed in the amazing fluffiness that your feels will soon be exposed to! So thank you so much for clicking on, it means the world to me! If you read, don't forget to review - comments are so important to me, I love hearing about what ya'll thought. You're the best! Take care :)