She hadn't seen him before. She knew she hadn't, and yet. He was so familiar. A connection from another lifetime perhaps? A wandering, fleeting thought? But it didn't matter. She was far too busy to contemplate such nonsense. Emma stopped staring at the man sitting across from her in the subway the moment he looked up. Their eyes never met. He looked long and hard, enchanted by her. He knew her from somewhere, but the place was slipping from him. He almost had it, and then it was gone. Nothing. A fanciful imagination, he had. Killian briefly shook his head and looked back at his book.

That night, she dreamt of princesses and ogres, pirates and giants. She fought for a life, a child and in the midst of it all, she saw something of a familiar face. Dark hair, eyes bright as the sea. His voice was far away, lilting and laughing. She smiled in her sleep that night. She would not remember it when she awoke.

Sunlight. Her hair was made of sunlight, rays breathing life into him, clearing away the darkness. He'd never felt truly whole before, but for a brief moment, she made him. He dreamed of her every night, awoke screaming for her, reaching out in a sweat soaked haze. But he did not remember. Perhaps someday he would.

Fate has a way of reaching out to two people, pulling them together. They would never know that they were meant to meet, meant to change and grow and complete. The universe works in a sort of design, predetermined before we are born and continues when we are gone. Death is not an end, it is merely a beginning. Life starts anew and fate, well fate leads us to where we must go.