Ahoy shipmates,

How did we all like the premiere? Laugh? Cry? Sob manically over the perfection that is Captain Swan? This is set after 3x01, just a little version of events to keep us going until next week!

Disclaimer: I wish I owned it. But alas, it is not mine.

Enjoy! And come play on twitter ( tadpole24_) and tumblr (wonder24).


What the Night Does to You


It's almost too much. Reliving it hurts his heart more than he can bear to admit. The way her body had crumpled there, had lain there cold and lifeless for a moment too long. In that same spot.

He couldn't even make his legs travel the distance to be at her side.

His breathing becomes laboured and his chest hurts all the more as they try to rouse her to no avail. It's all too familiar.

His body writhes on the ground as Emma tries to wake him from what seems to be a persisting nightmare for him. She knows she needs to ignore her fascination with him calling her name and rescue him from that place Neverland takes you to in slumber , but he's under deep this time and not responding to her usual methods of stirring him.

She wishes her parents were here. Hell, she'd even take Regina at this point. Just someone who knows what to do, how to get him out of there. It's been hard since they were all separated and she only hopes that the others are doing better than she and Hook seem to be.

Her skin turns bluer, her eyes never opening as her entire body goes limp between Charming and Snow. They cry and beg for her to return to them, but his pain is more than that, it's deeper, it's in his very soul. He feels his heart giving out, his own legs buckling beneath him as his final breath is sucked from his body. As the edges of his vision blurs he notices his very life force leaving him and entering her.

It's the curse they must carry it seems.

They cannot exist in this world together. His wrong doings have destined him to a life free of happy endings.

His body rests again now, but she can't help notice the tear that slides from the corner of his eye to the scruff of his beard. Not realising he needs to be woken in this moment more than any, she gently wipes the wet path from his face and lies back down next to him, attempting to sleep herself.


The next time he wakes her up, it's a lot more gentle, but no less horrific. It begins with a sweet touch to her arm, his hook running up past her elbow and wrapping around her, his breath catching the back of her neck as he seems to curl against her.

She rolls over, wanting to ask him about his earlier nightmare, but finds that his face does not match with the softness of his actions. Her hand comes out to rest upon his cheek and he must be in a much lighter sleep than earlier because his eyes startle open as soon as she touches his skin. In a moment is face goes from contorted in agonising pain to relief. She doesn't know what to do as he pants and clutches at the hand still on his face, "You're real?"

She nods, moving to sit up, but he pulls her back down, "Don't go. Don't leave. It hurts."

She knows he's not usually the kind to admit to pain, so she knows what it costs him to reveal these things, "What can I do?"

His eyes widen, "Do not let me fall prey to sleep, lass. I'm not safe there. Neverland is inside of me."

"But surely you need to rest," she protests, her thumb swiping his stubbly cheek, noticing for the first time the dark circles under his eyes, the grey hue his skin has taken.

"Not worth it," he whispers, "Not worth the pain."


It takes a few more days of endless searching for him to finally admit he needs a break. She has been managing a couple of hours sleep every now and then to keep her going, but he simply refuses to close his eyes.

When she catches him by the stream, throwing up what little breakfast they had gathered, she warns him of the effects of sleep deprivation and how his whole system must be shutting down.

"I know, love."

"Will you please try and sleep?"

He scoops some of the fresh water up to scrub over his face and nods in defeat, "Only if you stay by my side."

And again, she knows what it costs him to ask.


This time she has to slap him awake. A resounding smack echoing through the dense jungle, "Killian Jones, you listen here, you're dreaming!"

Her hand is raised to hit at him again when his hook catches her wrist, "I'm awake!"

She breathes a sigh of relief, "Enough is enough, Hook. What are these dreams about?"

He averts his gaze, refusing to meet her eye, "Nothing."

"You cry out my name every time you close your eyes, do not tell me it's nothing."

"They're just dreams," he counters, rolling away from her.

But she's no fool, "Am I in danger?"

"No! No, lass," he hadn't realised that was how she was taking it, "My nightmares are of events in the past. Things I cannot control, things I never wanted to have happened."

It never appears to be daylight in this place, but there are certain times when the moon is higher in the sky and they can see more clearly to trace their way through the trees and boulders of this unique jungle. She can tell now that there are still a few hours left before they can safely be on the move again, so she reaches out to take his hand, "I need you to trust me, Killian."

He remains facing away from her and is silent for a long moment. She gives him his time though and soon enough his voice rumbles into the air, addressing her, "Milah died on that ship, she died on the very spot you nearly died just the other day." He squeezes her hand, "I have nightmares of losing you, Emma. I have nightmares of that place on my ship claiming yet another woman I care deeply for."

She tries her best not to react to his simple admission but can't stop the slight gasp that escapes her. She had always thought his feelings were purely physical, that he was interested in only bedding her, but this changes things. This changes everything.

"I'm not going anywhere."

At that he finally faces her, "I saw it reflected in your eyes, lass. I saw the same thing I see in myself, I saw you wanting to give in. There have been times in my life where taking the easy way out has been tempting, but it shouldn't be for you. You have so much to live for, so many people who love you."

"And what about you?" she replies, anger starting to flare in her, "You think you have no one who wants you in their life? I jumped off that boat to give you a common cause to fight for, but you are reckless with your life for selfish reasons. Don't ever think I have given up so long as Henry is out there." She rips her hand from his, swiping it across her face to mask any tears that may have fallen in her burst of emotion.

He tries to reach for it again, but she continues to pull away.

"I'm sorry, love."

She shrugs, accepting his honesty and breathing slowly and evenly to calm herself down, "I know." Laying her head back down, she gently pats the ground beside her, "Come on, we should be able to catch at least one hour more before we have to keep moving."

He nods, feeling exhausted, and accepts her invitation, laying down just a little closer to her than he usually would.


It happens the same for a few nights after that. She rouses him from sleep when his tossing and turning wakes her and they talk. She tells him about her life growing up in a world she didn't belong in and he recounts similar tales of not fitting in and how he had landed in Neverland all those hundreds of years ago.

The stories of Neverland lead to stories of Baelfire, and Emma, for once, doesn't feel nervous about narrating her past with the same man by a different name. They talk until they fall asleep and then repeat the action until the moon rises high enough for them to be able to search again.

It's methodical, predictable and it gives them this sense of balance and structure. It gives them something to keep them occupied in the long hours where it is too impractical for them to follow leads and look for Henry.

It begins to wear on Emma after a while that for all her abilities in being able to find people, she can't seem to find the one she most wants to. And Killian notices the way she starts to wake him instead, with calls of her son's name breaking through his own unrestful slumber.

The island is taking its toll on the both of them.

Neither of them is sure who starts it, but slowly their bodies drift closer and closer to each other, night by night, until it becomes the natural progression for him to tuck an arm over her waist and pull her into him. They don't talk about it come morning, but know the other is just trying to find some kind of warmth and comfort in this dismal place.

Running through the forest the next day, she pushes through a barrier of thickly woven branches and into an open clearing, their foe falling behind as they seemingly dissolve into yet another part of the island. She comes to an abrupt halt, Killian crashing into her as he keeps his head turned over his shoulder, making sure they are clear of the band of Lost Boys who had been chasing them.

He brings his hands up to steady Emma once he sees that they are safe, but notices the way her attention has been caught by what is in front of them. A vast meadow filled with yellow flowers leads to a lagoon at the base of a small hill, upon which sits an old willow tree, its long and lithe branches swaying.

But it's not the breathtaking beauty of this small oasis that holds her gaze, it's the way the whole place is lit up with sunshine. She turns her head up, basking in its warmth, "What is this place?"

He cautiously places a hand on her arm, attempting to keep her from wandering, "It looks like the legends tell. This is what Neverland used to be like before Pan began his wretched reign."

Unable to hold her back, he follows her as she steps towards the body of water, "It's beautiful."

"Aye," but his voice still holds an air of scepticism that has her turning around to meet him with questioning eyes.

"You don't think so?"

He reaches out to once more pull her to him, "I only worry for the mirage this place could be. It almost seems too good to be true."

She smile, squeezing his hand, "It feels safe though, doesn't it?"

He's used to being so wary in this place, but at her insistence he lets his eyes close and breathes in. It takes a second or two, but it washes over him. A feeling he hasn't succumbed to in centuries, safety.

"It does, love."

When his eyes fall open once more, his heartbeat picks up in pace at her very near proximity. She's watching him with a clear fascination, her warmth and the heat from the sun making him feel incredibly comforted. He gives her an experimental pull and she easily steps further into his personal space, reaching a hand up to brush along his face, "I don't-"

But he's swift to wrap his hooked arm behind her and tug her forward those last few inches, claiming her lips without a moment's notice. She relaxes into it as though she has been preparing for this her whole life, her lips meeting his at every press, every sweep.

His hand travels up her spine and buries itself in her hair, deepening their embrace, relishing in the sweetness of her taste as she moans gracefully into his mouth, her body settling neatly against his, not a breath of air separating them.

It feels like the ground is shifting beneath them, their whole beings vibrating with the feel of each other and when they finally feel the need for air, breaking apart and opening their eyes, they find that they have indeed moved. They can see the place they once stood, but now they rest beside the willow tree. Killian has his suspicions of just how they could land here, but the explanation of pixie dust and happiness dies on his lips as he sees Emma properly for the first time since pulling back.

"Gods," he whispers. He knows right then that whatever nightmares he'd been having about her pale and lifeless body won't plague him any longer. He can see how vibrant and beautiful she is here and that image will forever be seared into his mind's eye. It will forever be that thing that just makes him happy.

She blushes at his exclamation, understanding what he means in that one word. She ducks her head for just a moment and that's when it catches her eye, the mop of brown hair on a small boy. Looking down from their vantage point, the crystal clear water acts as a looking glass to what her heart most desires. More pixie magic at play, Hook notes.

He looks lost, but not terrified or hurt and that is a good sign. They watch a while longer until Hook sees a landmark, something to identify where he is.

"If we run, we can catch him in the vicinity," Killian tells her, taking her hand to guide her.

She looks up at him and nods, ready to go now.

Neither one is ready to admit it just yet, but they can finally both see hope in this whole situation and in each other.

With a proper lead and no fear of nightmares, they grab hold of each other's hands and push back out to the cold reality of Neverland. However, they both make a silent pledge to return this island to the warm oasis they had just encountered, with the help of Henry of course.