Based on a one word prompt from Tumblr. The word was 'separation'.

Leave Me Alone, I'm Lonely

She thinks it's cute at first, the way he follows her to work, perches himself on the edge of her desk and hands her files when she asks for them. It's nice that she doesn't have to wait all day to see him. Especially when, despite her previous experiences with men in her life, she has been pretty much dreading any time of separation in those first few weeks of making whatever is between them official.

Even though she knows that Storybrooke is her home and that she is meant to be here, there's still that niggling thought at the back of her mind that tells her that she's been running her whole life and, maybe, she's just made for that. Maybe she won't be able to stick it out in this whole permanence thing. But his comforting presence at her side always reminds her of what she would miss if she was ever to leave again.

They fall into a happy rhythm with it all. He sleeps at her new apartment, even though he's still renting a room at Granny's, and is always there when she awakens. He goes with her to drop Henry off at school and then follows her to the station. It's easy between them, easier than she ever dared to hope she would have in her life.

It's when his few prized possessions start making appearances around her apartment that she finally concedes that he's moved in and she asks him to stop paying for that room over at Granny's and make it official. She doesn't think she's ever seen someone's eyes light up as much as his had in that moment and she realises that he's still afraid that he's just a charity case to her, that she's only keeping him around because she feels she has to.

But that first night after he's completely given up his escape option, when the room at Granny's is now occupied by someone else, Emma pulls his arms around her naked form and whispers a request, "Never leave."

"I couldn't," comes his simple reply. But the depth of the meaning is not lost between them.

He's always been in this for the long haul and now she is too.

It's a stupid argument really, something that shouldn't even be happening, but she's had a long day at work and, while she appreciates his presence, she just wants some alone time. She had dropped Henry off at Regina's (which had been another battle, mind you. If she can ever mend that bridge it'll be a miracle) and knew that Killian had been invited out for drinks with David and Robin, so she had been set on the idea of a bath and wine and chocolate until the tension from the depths of her soul was released.

But Killian is being difficult.

"Go!" she yells, throwing his jacket at him and storming towards the bathroom, "I just want to be alone!"

He sort of staggers towards her with this desperate look on his face, like this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him. It doesn't even register in her mind that what he's hearing is that she doesn't want him around at all. Ever.

"Emma," he tries, following her down the hall.

But she turns around, pressing a hand to his chest, gritting her teeth as she speaks, "Seriously Killian. You need to go."

His head drops and she just doesn't care. In her mind, she's asking for an evening. In his eyes, she's asking for eternity.

He tries to kiss her forehead and she turns away from him, being her usual stubborn self. When she hears the door close behind him she finally breathes, stripping her clothes off, right there, in the hallway before making her way into the bathroom to run herself a bath.

The stress of the day, of Elsa remaining a constant threat in their lives, of trying to keep her family safe, all falls away from her bit by bit as she sinks into the warm water. It's cathartic being alone and only having to worry about herself.

But as the night wears on, she starts to realise that her words to Killian earlier may have been harsh and blunt. And, by the time the pirate comes stumbling in the front door at 1am, Emma's sitting on the couch, barely watching the movie she'd put on and biting her nails in worry over the bitterness in her tone earlier in the evening.

She turns to face him and sees his pleading eyes as he comes towards her, "Thank the gods you're here, lass."

His words are slurred and she knows he must have drunk a lot to get to that stage. She briefly wonders how David and Robin are holding up.

"Of course I'm here." She stands up and meets him halfway, ridiculously grateful that he's home, "Where else would I be?"

He steps into her waiting arms, slinging his own around her and pulling her into a tight embrace. "Do you love me?" he asks, completely ignoring her question.

She has to smile at how helpless he sounds, because this is Captain-freaking-Hook we're talking about. "Never stopped."

His face is buried in her neck, but she hears the muffled, "Good," before he starts to sway.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're okay." she tells him, pulling back to assess the situation. His eyes look unfocussed and like they're ready to close. "Come on, pirate. Time for bed."

He mutters some nonsense about being so happy they share a bed as she pulls his jacket from his shoulders. She doesn't get much further though because he just about collapses onto the bed at the point, eyes closed, a soft snore escaping his half open mouth.

Emma smiles to herself and removes his shoes before climbing into the bed next to him.

"Darling, I'm going to need a couple of those magic pills that take away the pounding."

To say that the next day is rough for Killian Jones would be a complete understatement. He had awoken to the smell of bacon and thought the trek to the kitchen would be safe, however, upon standing up, he'd discovered that his body was still adjusting to the amount of alcohol he'd drunk the previous night. Which is seriously saying a lot for a pirate.

Emma opens a cupboard and pulls out a bottle of Advil before placing it in front of the pirate with a glass of water, "Here you go."

She turns back around to the bacon sizzling on the stove and cracks a couple of eggs into the pan.

"That smells heavenly," he muses after swallowing his pills.

Emma pulls the toast from the toaster and sandwiches some bacon and an egg between the two slices, adding a healthy serve of tomato relish to the mix. She makes one for herself as well and, after making sure the stove is all switched off, she turns around and places his plate in front of him.

"So, are you gonna tell me what last night was about?"

He's got the sandwich halfway to his mouth when his eyes flick up to meet hers. Placing it back down, he inclines his head slightly, "I didn't want you to think I was leaving you." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world and she realises, then and there, the depths of this man's affection for her.

She leans over the breakfast bar, "Killian, we're in this together, okay? I trust you. And I haven't said that to another person in a long, long time." Her hands reach out to take his hand and hook, "You can go out and I won't think you're leaving me. We can have time apart. I'm not that fragile."

He looks at her carefully and must decide that she's being honest with him, because he smiles at her then and pulls back to take a big bite out of his sandwich. A look of pure happiness washes over his face at the flavours, "Swan, you are too incredible."

He's got crumbs in his scruff, relish on his lip and his hair is standing up in all directions, and she has never loved him more. It's silly to think that they won't fight again at some point in their lives and ever sillier to think that this won't be the last time he'll be worried about leaving her, but she supposes that there are worse things to fight about.

"I can still come to work with you, though, right?"

She sinks her teeth into her own sandwich and nods at him. Because, really, she loves having him around.

Thoughts?