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Chapter Three: Sleepless Nights, Stir Crazy Girl

Emma had no clue what time it was when she heard a door open down the hall. Footsteps made their way to her room until they stopped outside her door. Emma turned in her bed, pretending to be asleep as the door opened and the individual entered. She held her breath, encountering this situation too many times. In the bad homes, someone would come and mess with her while she was asleep. Either the drunk foster fathers or the good for nothing older brothers who came in to get a quick laugh.

The figure stood over her and she remained still, motionless, hoping they would believe the sleeping act and go away. They leaned closer, never touching her, but still inches away from her face. She struggled to not squeeze her eyes shut out of instinct, but instead keep herself relaxed as if she had been asleep for hours.

"I know you're awake, lass." A voice whispered. It took Emma a few seconds to register that it was Killian. She still laid still, pretending that she had not heard him and that she was really asleep. He tried again. "You're not fooling anyone."

She finally slowly stirred, sitting up in the darkness Killian moved to turn on a lamp which illuminated the small room. He leaned against the wall and peered over at her.

"Whatever you want, just do it." Emma muttered bitterly.

"I'm not here to hurt you, love. I was just checking on you."

"Sure you were." Emma scoffed. She waited a moment for his response before she added. "And I am not your love."

"Believe it or not, I am not like the creeps you have encountered in your other homes. I was truly just coming to see if you had been able to sleep. My suspicions were right-you were not able to."

Emma pushed herself up a little bit more with her arms, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her head against the headboard. "And why would you think that?"

"I know at one point I stopped sleeping for the first few nights. And, love, you are something of an open book to me."

Emma wanted to ask him about his past, why he needed to stay up during the nights, but her walls went up and she attacked his latter comment. "You've known me for a few hours. I am not an open book to you, or anyone for that matter."

"That is where you are wrong." He told her, taking a step closer. "I know more about you than you care to admit. We are alike, Emma."

"We are foster kids-we are all alike." She pointed out.

Killian shook his head. "That was not what I meant. I refuse to be called the label of foster child. Don't you realize you are so much more?"

Emma turned her head away from him and looked at the bed. She ran a hand through the hair before turning back to him. "Never have been, never will be."

Killian moved to take the chair from her desk and bring it over to by her bed so he could sit with her. "We are more than just unwanted children with the misfortune of ending up in the system. We are people with thoughts, emotions and stories. You have a story, lass, and it's not just being in the system, even if that has been your entire life. You have a future."

"Well, my future's not looking too bright." Emma muttered again, turning her body a bit so her was looking at him head on.

"That's what they tell us." He motioned to her. "They tell us that we have no chance at success despite our past. I refuse to believe that!"

"I don't" Emma struggled to keep her voice down, remembering that Mrs. Abernathy was still asleep and would most likely have a problem with the two of them in the same room at night. "You don't know me. Don't know my past-what I have been through."

"No." Killian shook his head. "I don't. But I know me past."

"Couldn't have been any worse than mine." Emma stated, a bitter edge to her whisper.

"Couldn't have been any better, either." He said calmly. "Maybe I have not been in this system as long as you, but I have seen my fair share of pain. I am not oblivious to the fact that life can suck. I just chose to believe that we are more than our circumstances."

"You seriously believe that you could get, what, a happy ending?" Emma asked in an almost mocking tone.

"I believe I could be happy. I could turn my life around when I am out of here. Life will be hard after I age out, I know that. My happy ending as you put it won't always be easy, but it is worth fighting for."

"How do you manage to stay like that with everything you've seen?"

"Someone once told me 'A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.' I refuse to give up without a fight."

"Good advice. Who told you that?" Emma genuinely asked.

"Someone from long ago." He said, a hint of sadness in his voice. He did not stay on the matter long enough for her to question it. "But it stands true-I will do this for him, I will believe that things will get better. Things get better, Emma. I understand you better than anyone else, yet I am sitting in front of you stating that life goes on and gets better. You are more than the foster child everyone sees."

No one had ever taken the time to tell her that. No one had really ever taken the time to tell her much, except how unlovable she was. He was different than anyone she had met, especially the people she had met in the system. He felt the same pain as her, knew the same life, yet chose to believe things would be better. That maybe, just maybe, one day someone could love someone like them.

But then again, that was a long shot. She barely knew this person, she could not let his word of hope cloud her judgement. The only thing Emma had ever known was pain and rejection. The feeling of being unloved and unwanted was all too real in her life and she if she opened herself up, the pain could only be intensified. He might think he knew her, but in reality, he did not, and he wouldn't want to either.

"Thank you." Emma whispered. In all honesty, she did not know how else to respond.

He just nodded and stood, returning the chair to where he had gotten it. "I should let you rest. You are probably very tired."

Emma smiled at him, saying nothing, but lying down in her bed again. He went to the lamp to turn it off, but before he did he said. "And Emma? Sleep. No one can hurt you know." The room went dark and she heard his quietly slip out the door.

For the first time in years,despite her telling herself she shouldn't, Emma slept on the first night of a new home.