The chair wasn't comfortable, but the sight of his little girl fast asleep, her chest rising and falling, the little puffs of air escaping her lips and the beautiful blonde hair -just like her mummy's- wide spread in the pillow behind her like a halo was everything he needed to soothe every discomfort. Her angelic face had a calming effect on Killian, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. The name of his little girl very appropriate, because she gave him that -hope-

The room was dark, only a low light in her nightstand, so if she woke up in the middle of the night, she wouldn't be afraid. It lit up her pale skin, the shadows dancing in her face, as if playing to wake her up or not. A real angel, just as her mum, he thought. Not only she had the features of the mystic creatures, but also the heart, manners and magic. The only thing missing were the wings.

Since the day she was born, he's thought she was one. An angel sent from heaven to fix him, a beautiful bow to his and Emma's marriage. One more reason to be a better man, a better husband and a better father. And since the moment he held Hope, a teeny-tiny-moving pink bundle, he knew he was gone for her. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her. And when, under the tired but smiley eyes of Emma, he told the baby for the first time "I love you" he hadn't stopped saying that. And as if she had understood him, Hope wrapped her little hand around his finger, her personal way of answering him, Emma told him.

As she grew, he could see Emma in Hope, more every day. Not only the shape of her face, her hair or her physique -although she had his impossible blue eyes Emma loved so much and his pixie ears- but also her manners. An independent little girl since an early age, learning to feed herself -even if she made a mess and her face and all around her ended up covered with food- or rushing to walk without help -even if she kept falling, hurting herself and crawling to her mummy or daddy for cuddles- and sometimes he suddenly felt two tiny but strong arms hugging his legs, and the moment he looked down he saw his little girl with a toothy big smile. His stubborn little girl, just like mummy.

She also had this sense of justice. When she saw something she felt wasn't fair -a boy taking another kid's toy or someone getting hurt- she needed to act upon it. A two-year-old acting as she was a superhero who had to save the world. And more than once that's got her in trouble. That's something she got from him. Her ability to get in trouble, but also to get out of it. His little pirate, he would say. But the thing is that with her cute face, the look she gave him, and the little guilty but loving smile had him in a puddle at her feet. He couldn't scold her for trying to act about an injustice.

The sheets rustled, Hope's little and delicate body moving an then he saw his own eyes looking to him. Her eyelids were half closed; her eyes full of sleep.

"Daddy?" she mumbled in a sleepy voice "Why are you here? Is it time to wake up?" she asked in her cute baby voice, moving closer to him and reaching for his hand. She found the hook instead and grabbed it, cuddling it as she cuddled her plushies.

"No, it's the middle of the night" he placed his only hand in her hair, stroking her soft curls as he loved doing with Emma's. "Go back to sleep, little love. I'll be here". Hope smiled and closed her eyes, her breath calm again. He continued caressing her, his thumb brushing her forehead in a soothing way, the same way he used to do when she was a baby and couldn't sleep. "I love you".

"I love you too, daddy" Hope answered a few seconds later and he could swear, his heart stopped for a while. Every time she said those words he felt like crying. She was so pure, the baby he made with the love of his life.

The clock on the wall kept ticking. The minutes, and probably hours, passing, but it felt like seconds to him. Her body pressed against his arm, her warm breath fogging the hook. Her face, once again, relaxed.

He looked to the wall at the other side of the room. There were frames with photos of Hope as a baby. Her with Emma, with him, with both. A small, cuddly baby that fit in the crook of his arm. Now, she was 2. He feared that, his little girl growing up to turn into an independent woman, someone who wouldn't need him anymore. Who wouldn't have to hold his hand to cross the street, or push her in the swings, or help her to read. Who would make plans alone with her friends, or God forbid it, have a boyfriend. She already was a charmer and heartbreaker, chasing boys and flirting with them. What would he do the moment a man knock at his door to ask her out, or ask for her hand? He would die, and he already knew that. He feared that day. And even though he wanted her happy and knew that day will eventually come, he wasn't ready. But one thing he could swear, he wouldn't say yes at least he knew he was the one for her and treated her as she deserved, with respect. Because his little girl deserved nothing more than that. Although Killian would make her promise that she must always be his little girl, no matter how old or with whom she lived, she would always be his baby. He wanted Hope to need him, to come to him when she was happy, sad or in trouble. Thanks God she was still a little baby, now matter how big she always claimed she was. His mini-Emma.

"Killian?" he turned his head and saw Emma in the door frame, a blanket across her shoulders, her hair a complete mess. He smiled before gently removing his trapped arm and placing Hope's favorite plushie -the duck he gave her as a baby- which she hugged tightly in her sleep. He placed a soft kiss against her warm forehead and tucked the sheets so she wouldn't get cold. "Hey" Emma greeted him when he finally got to her side "Is something wrong?" she asked pecking him on the lips and placing her arms around his toned waist.

"I had a nightmare" he whispered kissing her forehead.

"Oh, babe" she placed her head on his shoulder and kissed the skin there. The nightmares were something normal since they got together, both his and hers. After everything they've been through it was normal that their subconscious made those horrible scenarios that haunted their dreams. They were always the same: Emma -or Killian if was her the one with them- dying in different and painful ways. And after Hope was born, she sometimes appeared in their dreams "I promise you nothing bad will happen to us. We are strong" Killian smiled, and they continued down the corridor to their bed. He helped her and then laid next to her. He placed his big hand in Emma's swollen tummy and felt his littlest girl's kicks. They chuckled. She wasn't born yet, but she also was a daddy's girl, as Emma liked to joke. All his girls had him wrapped around her fingers. He then nuzzled her neck and smelled the sweet scent of her hair. He kissed the skin there.

"I woke up and you weren't there" she murmured before falling asleep.

"I'm sorry" he answered to the dark. He looked to his wife, an older version of his little girl, but both as pretty, and smiled. He had everything he needed now, and he was happy.

I wrote this the other day in class after listening for the millionth time to Tim McGraw's "My little girl", a song that always reminds me of Killian with Hope. And as there aren't many fics with Hope in her tag -and I love her so very much and I'm a sucker to daddy Killian- I though of writing this one. Hope you liked it