A/N: Not happy with Adam & Eddy over Neal's death. So I took my first stab at OUAT fic. I know it's probably not the greatest, but I would love it if you read and reviewed =)
Emma knows she has to get out of bed, has to find Zelena and get rid of her. But, she rolls onto her side and stares at the wall, Neal is dead and she can't seem to find the energy to get up.
Henry had more questions about Neal than she thought he would. So they had sat on the bench, talking, for hours. And she had held back the majority of her tears.
But now? Curled up in David and Mary Margaret's bed, her parents' bed? Emma let herself cry.
She wrapped her arms around her legs, pressing her knees into her chest and sobbed. Emma could feel the pillow dampening under her cheek, but she didn't move.
She'd lost Neal twice before, and had found him twice before. But, Emma thought darkly, third time's the charm. Losing Neal this time would stick. And it hurt like hell.
Emma sighed, she really thought that she and Neal were over. That they could maybe be friends, happily co-parent Henry with Regina. But now, a nagging little voice in her head reminded her that Neal was her first love, that Neal could have been her last love. But now she'd never know. They'd never get a chance to try again, to try for Tallahassee.
The door to the loft creaked open and Emma shoved her first knuckle into her mouth, muffling the sobs that were still causing her body to shake. She was supposed to be out there, finding Zelena, and she didn't want anyone to see her like this.
"Emma? Honey?" Mary Margaret's soft voice finds Emma's ears and the blonde can't help but let out a muffled whimper.
She should let Mary Margaret come and hug her, comfort her. Isn't that what mothers do? Isn't that what she's wanted for almost thirty years?
But Emma won't call out, won't let her mom in. Not until Mary Margaret finds her in the bedroom and leans against the doorframe, breathing out, "Oh, Emma. I'm so sorry."
It's then that Emma finally sits up, her face red and splotchy and covered with half dry tears.
"I can't believe he's gone," she says, her voice catching. Mary Margaret frowns and hurries as fast as her pregnant body will allow. She scoots up onto the bed next to her daughter and holds her close, one arm wrapped tightly around Emma's shoulders.
"It's not fair," Emma sighs, leaning into her mother's embrace, her eyes closing as Mary Margaret strokes her hair.
"I know," Snow White says, trying to think of something, anything, she could say that would make this better. But everything she can think of sounds clichéd, like it should come from a storybook. And nothing in Emma's life is remotely fairytale-like right now.
"He never got to see Henry again," Emma says softly, chewing on her lip.
"Henry wouldn't have remembered him anyway," Snow says, wishing she could take it back immediately. It sounds cold, and heartless.
But Emma doesn't seem to realize, "He wanted to see him. Asked me in the hospital. But I said no. I wanted Henry's memories of New York to be the only ones he has right now."
"Neal would never hold that against you. He only wanted the best for Henry too," Snow says, pushing her luck and dropping a soft kiss to her daughter's soft blonde hair.
Snow can feel Emma shake her head, "What if I'm wrong? What if the best thing for Henry is to know Storybrooke? To really remember Neal and Regina?"
Snow sighs, "I don't know, honey. You're his mom, you have to make that choice."
"I can't," Emma frowns, "Nothing will ever be right again."
Snow is about to say something, to try and give her daughter a little piece of the hope she's been carrying around for decades, when the loft door opens again.
"Emma? Mary Margaret?" David's voice rings out, but it has a nasal tone to it, as if he's been crying too.
"In here, David," Snow calls. Charming's always been good at keeping morale high, maybe Emma just needs to talk to her dad.
Charming appears in the doorway, takes in the sight before him.
"Emma…" he trails off, at a loss for words.
She lifts her head from Mary Margaret's shoulder and give him a weak, watery smile.
But then she catches sight of something glinting in David's fist and she shakes her head.
"What's that?" she asks, even though she already knows what it is.
David's moving to stand next to the bed. He holds up his hand and lets the little swan pendant dangle from its chain.
"We found this…near…" he stops himself. Emma must have already guessed where they found the necklace.
"It's mine," Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter says, reaching out her hand to take the necklace. Once it is safely in her possession, Emma makes a fist around it, squeezing tightly.
David sits on the edge of the bed, and rests a hand on Emma's knee, "I know this is hard. But we will find her."
David and Mary Margaret watch as something hardens in Emma's eyes, as her hand reaches down to play with the fraying ends of bootlace tied to her wrist.
"I know," Emma says, "I owe Neal that much. I owe Henry it too, even if he doesn't remember his dad."
Emma leaves it unsaid, but she'll always remember Neal too, and what could have been. How they could have found Tallahassee, for real.
Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Emma clambers off the bed. She's on a renewed mission as she storms out of the loft.
Mary Margaret looks at her husband, matching worried expressions on their faces.
"Charming, we can't let her go crazy," Snow worries at her bottom lip.
"We won't," her husband says firmly, jaw set and looking every bit the prince he is, "We're here with her this time."
Mary Margaret can only hope that he's right. She won't lose her daughter a third time.
