AN: I'm sorry for my absence, but life has been getting in the way lately. Updates might not be as frequent anymore, but I promise I haven't given up on these stories!
I was thinking recently about how well Killian can reason with Emma and help keep her calm, and I liked the idea of a scenario in which he did that without actually being with Emma at all. (Essentially how Belle was with Rumple when in Neverland). So enjoy, and thank you for your continued support!
The first thing she remembers are his eyes.
She'd woken from something that couldn't quite be called a dream and felt the cold, compactness of earth beneath her. Dirt and leaves clung to her hair and her clothing, the material of which was foreign and rough, scratching at her skin.
Her muscles had protested when she moved, strained even just by sitting up to lean her back against a nearby tree. She took in slow lungfuls of air, pinching her eyes tightly shut, trying desperately to remember.
She sees then, in a flash of light and color and sound, all the lives she's lived. Her mind moves rapidly as it sifts through the memories, not registering anything until it lands on him.
He fades in slowly, at first just a shade of blue she can't put a name on. He is all dark hair and clothing, sharp edges and harsh words, like he's holding a storm cloud inside his chest; but somehow she knows his heart is good. And at this thought, her hands pulse with the memory of it; its red glow and its steady beat like a war drum, muttering get through this get through this.
His name forms in her chest, blooming like a flower, spreading outwards from the parts of her that could never forget him. Killian, she thinks, and she is Emma.
And here the others come back into focus, too- the boy with her eyes and a smile like his father's, the woman with porcelain skin and the kind-faced man by her side, the dark haired woman who has an entire storm inside of her.
Their faces light a match in her brain, sparking a sudden worry which courses adrenaline through her. Magic flares up at her fingertips, wild and powerful as it bursts from her, unbidden. Emma's taken aback by the strength of the blast as it scorches a cluster of trees. Her hands curl into fists on reflex, only causing the whirlwind inside her to grow stronger. Ribbons of magic shoot into the air and Emma gasps at the sight. She shuts her eyes as she tries to pull the power back inwards, to keep it beneath the surface-
Easy, Swan.
Killian's voice is there so clearly and so close that Emma whips her head around in search of him. The forest stares back at her, empty of anything but the foliage. Emma shuts her eyes again, the tingle of magic still running over her skin. With her eyes closed, she can imagine the pads of Killian's fingertips running over the palm of her hand, soothing the sting out of them.
Come back to me, he would urge her, just as he has during all the times Emma's woken from one of her night terrors. She can feel Killian brushing the hair away from her forehead, his arms moving to encircle her, his words a whisper against her temple; her shoulder; her neck.
Emma's eyes open and Killian is gone, but his words resonate. They make her pounding heart take root in her chest and the blood thrumming through her veins slow. Emma takes a breath and the exhale is his name, sent into the space around her like a prayer. She can only hope it reaches him; that the words which follow are able to cross the realms between them, to rest in his waiting ears.
Killian, she says, Killian, I love you.