Nightmare

Arms captured him from behind. He tensed for a moment, but the weight of them was familiar and soothing.

"Not really a good time." There was a trace of a smile on his lips as he tried to turn, but only his head pivoted on his shoulders. He could not see the woman holding him, but he could feel her breathing and skin like that under his fingers was not something easily forgotten.

"Come on. Where's your sense of adventure?" The woman goaded him, egging him on. Even out on the deck of the Jolly Roger he was finding it difficult to keep his face stern. She pressed up and then down, teetering on her feet. Obviously in some sort of playful mood.

"I said, it's not a good time, love. Crew's all about and—" Killian looked out over the ship and found it empty. "Oi, it's not a holiday. Where th—"

"Shh." A finger pressed to his mouth and his eyes rolled skyward. Then he felt a chin on his shoulder and lips on his ear. "See. We're alone. Can we play now?" The voice purred as teeth nipped at his skin and velvet caressed his neck.

However odd it was to find the ship completely empty, it was not a concern for long. Killian smiled and began to turn toward his attacker. "Never quite tamed are you, Milah—" He caught a piece of hair stirred by the breeze and it was not brown. The golden strands slipped through his fingers, forgotten, as he was consumed by eyes of sea green, not the chocolate brown he had been expecting.

"Milah? Who's Milah?"

Hook let the figure dance up to him. Smiles and bare shoulders. Flirty and mischievous. His breath grew heavy and he watched the lithe body in his arms like a spectre had just froze the blood in his veins. The woman tilted her head and bumped her nose into his.

"You okay?"

"I'm—" He was not.

Concern creased the brow of the woman and a consuming void of guilt swelled at his feet. The gravity of it pulled at his shoulders, at his legs, his arms, he felt strained and crushing weight all about him was crushing…squeezing…pressing him into nothing.

"I can kiss it? Would that make it better?" She leaned without warning. She kissed without hesitation. He caved without a fight. The ice burned and his blood was now fire. Heat and need stirring and mixing with each shared breath. But the void only grew and the pull only strengthened.

Hook stopped, pulled away. "Emma…"

But hearing her name spurred her on and her fingers clamped into his hair and pulled him down and down and dragged him and suffocated and leeched and drained and…

When his eyes opened he was calm. The waves rocked and the breeze stirred and he was where he had fallen asleep. Dawn was breaking. The light shadowed the beams above him. And it was all he could see and there was nowhere to move. Everything and nothing hurt.

The seconds ticked into minutes and then hours. It was not the first night his dreams had sought to torment him. For years the sweet torture of Milah had risen with him each morning. The feel of her again and then losing her each dawn. Now his nightmares had taken a different course. It was Emma. Each and every time he was surprised. And each and every time he caved without a fight. And each and every time the guilt had pulled him into waking.

It was not a betrayal of the body. But lusting and loving were two very different things. And he feared that with each passing night he'd forget a little less about revenge. Three hundred years he had held firm to Milah's memory. To avenging her. For her. Because of her. In the space of a few weeks that will had been reduced to rubble at his feet and he didn't know how to forgive himself for liking it.

A/N: So. I don't really know why I wrote this. I sat down and it just came to me. Shared it on Tumblr and thought I'd post it on here in case anyone was interested. Thanks for reading. :)