These Dreams

The Sacrifices We Make

Killian's last memory was a blinding flash of light and then...darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he came to see the shadows and objects within the darkness, and not just a complete lack of light as he'd originally thought. He became conscious of the smell of vegetation, lush and green, carrying a slight hint of tropical flowers with it, and the ground beneath him was slightly spongey. The sound of a boar squealing off in the distance teased his ears, along with the distant crash of waves upon a shore. He was sitting with his back against a log, and he only had a moment to register all this before Emma stood before him.

"Hey," she said.

He looked up at her. "Hello."

"Listen, can you do that thing you do with the coconuts?" She held a coconut out in her hand, then squatted down next to him to offer it to him.

He looked at her more closely, the realization playing through his mind as the deja vu hit him hard.

They were in Neverland. Specifically, they were in Neverland the night after they kissed.

He turned his head and saw Regina, Snow and David all asleep on the other side of the campsite, and a smile played across his lips. She'd done her best to stay away from him for the remainder of the day, but now she was thirsty and they were preserving the water.

"Have a seat, Swan," he offered. "Happy to oblige."

She gave him a downright distrustful look, but sat down beside him anyway. He took the coconut from her hand, digging the point of his hook into it.

"You don't happen to have another one of these, do you?" he asked.

She reached beside her, placing another one in his lap.

"I figured you'd want some payment for your services."

His eyes slid to hers, and the slow grin and eyebrow raise he gave her made it clear he had something else entirely in mind. She gave him an answering smirk and took the coconut he handed her, drinking deeply and then wiping her mouth.

"Too bad we don't have some food," he said. "We could have a picnic."

She gave him a look. "It's the middle of the night."

"But I'm rather fond of picnics at all hours, so long as the weather holds."

She looked at him oddly. "The weather?"

"Well, we wouldn't want to get rained on, would we?"

"It hasn't rained once since we got...here." Emma's voice trailed off, then she took in a breath. "Okay. I've got it now." She looked over at him.

"Goddammit."

"What the matter, love?" he reached out with his hook, pushing a lock of her hair off her shoulder.

"Neverland."

He nodded sagely. "Certainly not an ideal locale. But better than being burned alive. Or shot. Or exploded."

"Don't forget 'burned at the stake,'" she added. "Bastard."

He took a drink from his coconut, putting it back down in his lap. "So why are you dreaming of Neverland?"

She looked annoyed. "How the hell do I know? I just am."

"But of all nights...this specific night. I just wondered."

She leaned her head toward him, looking up at him. "I guess you're on my mind in here."

"Along with Archie, and being British. Anything else?"