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Don't Let the Nightmares Walk In

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She wakes with a shout dying on her lips, Henry sitting bolt upright in the bed next to hers. "Mom?"

Images of her lesson in magic today flash before her eyes, the failure of her spell, the rush of water in her lungs, the pull of the rapids washing over her as she had tried to find her footing.

"It's okay, kid. Go back to sleep."

He nods sleepily and lies back down, "You need to sleep too."

His concern isn't new. Since being back in Storybrooke, she knows that she's been less carefree than in her year in New York. It breaks her heart that she doesn't know if she can ever be that person again for her son. There's always a danger, always something looming on the horizon.

"I will soon," she answers to her already sleeping son.

Climbing as quietly as she can from the bed, she grabs the key to the room and walks out into the hallway, welcoming the cooler air and clarity it allows her.

She knows what saved her today, but hasn't had a moment to think on it. Regina had watched from the bank of the river as Emma had wrapped herself in tendrils of silver magic and appeared, dry, next to her. When she'd asked what she'd been thinking of to produce the magic, Emma had remained tight lipped, instead insisting that they go back to the bridge and that she try again.

The truth is, it may appear as "yearning looks and doe-y eyes" to everyone else, but the bond that she feels with Killian is enough for her to fight for. It's enough for her to feel the magic well up inside of her at the thought of not being there to protect him.

Because not protecting him means that he's not protecting Henry and it dawns on her just how important their circle is, how it has grown to mean more than she could have ever imagined in the time she has known him. Her carefully constructed walls of steel never could have kept him out, not when he's the only person in her life to consistently show up for her, to show her how much she means to him.

His room is just across the hall, an easy couple of steps for her to take. And when she knocks, it's as though he has been waiting for her.

"Emma," he breathes.

But that's the only word that leaves his lips before she claims them, demanding and needy, one hand at the back of his neck, her other around his shoulders. She takes his breath away and he finally reacts, wrapping his arms tight around her and drawing her in.

One step.

Two steps.

A kick of the door and she is finally behind his walls as much as he is hers.

His hand trails up her side as his lips pass by her ear, teeth nipping at the lobe, "Not that I'm complaining, love, but to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Words are not what she needs right now, she just needs him. "I believe you promised me fun," she answers honestly.

Her back hits the door, Killian's body following her a moment later, leaning into her and capturing her lips once more, the taste of promise on his tongue. She's eager to reciprocate, a moan of delight escaping her when his knee shifts in between her legs and his hand grasps hers to hold it above her head.

But as he slides his nimble fingers back down her arm, tracing and tickling, her room key drops from her grip and the jangle of the metal hitting the ground brings them back to reality with a jump.

His leg drops and she nearly slides down the door with it, a heavy feeling sitting in the pit of her stomach the second he starts pulling away. "I just want a moment," she whispers to no one.

He answers anyway, "A moment for what?"

Her eyes raise to meet his, begging for him to understand, "A moment to forget. To kiss you and not worry about what evil thing is going to tear us apart. A moment to just not be who I am."

His hand presses into her arm above her head, trailing back up to her hand and grasping it with conviction. He rests his forehead against hers, "Hey now, Swan, you were born special. Don't squander your existence for a few measly moments with a pirate."

She raises her other hand to his cheek, "We both know you're more than that."

He smiles and kisses her again, "You should get some sleep."

"You sound like Henry."

"All the more reason to listen."

She sighs. The two men in her life seem to have formed a bond over which they have a mutual agreement to always take care of Emma. Even when she's particular about not needing the help. "The storm is coming, we might not get another chance."

He releases her hand, "Oh, but we will."

His certainty makes her smile and she bends down to pick up her key, opening the door behind her, "How can you be so sure?"

Hovering the in the doorway with her, a knowing look on his face, she trusts him completely before he even opens his mouth. But the words that come don't hurt his cause either. "Because you're not just magic's saviour, you're mine."

She hadn't been expecting such a sentiment and isn't quite sure how to respond. He saves her the trouble though, with a final parting kiss and another instruction to sleep.

The door closes behind her, a physical wall separating her from her deepest desires to be able to shed the saviour title. But a physical wall is certainly easier to topple than an emotional one and, finally, she feels like she's in control of something in this battle.

…

Let me know how you went.