Disclaimer: I own nothing of Once Upon a Time or Carrie Underwood, all goes to the respective owners
Inspired by: 'Undo it' Carrie Underwood

Listening to Carrie Underwood was always a questionable decision Emma often made whenever she felt like she needed to wallow in self-pity (and who doesn't now and again?). The alcohol helped but was not necessary. Drinking directly from the bottle of rum, reminding her all the while of a certain pirate and certainly glad he was not here to see her like this, and becoming more angry and frustrated at Neal by the minute.

All those years when she started doing this; whenever life beat her down to the breaking point she did this for a night and woke up the next morning even stronger for surviving all the shit that happened in her life; she had always wished Neal was in the vicinity so she could tell him exactly what she thought of him. How she survived being thrown in jail for a crime she did not do, was pregnant in said jail and had a child, and in doing what was best for her son so he could have the best life available to him, gave him up for adoption. Only to be reunited with him (Henry, Emma smiled fondly) years later and break a curse in a world where magic should not exist. Not to mention she could tell of the countless awful jobs she worked, living off the bare minimum, never stealing again, chasing down criminals and hoping that one day she may catch him and put him where he rightly belongs: behind bars.

Now, Neal was here; only a few blocks away, she could finally tell him what utter scum she thought he was. But she had already done that, in a more meaningful and hurtful way, better than she could have ever hoped. She could see how much it hurt him when she removed the necklace from around her neck; he looked as if he had been hoping she had kept it for sentimental reasons, and for that there was not a chance in hell. But she could not do anything to him after Henry had just forgiven her for lying to him and Neal was trying to establish some semblance of a relationship with her son. Besides, she was trying to be a better person ever since Henry found her and she committed to being his mother full time.

He would never get the privilege of seeing her weak again; he did not deserve to see her human. She did not owe him any explanation nor does he get to be listened to whenever he wants to explain the 'truth' of how he abandoned her 'for her own good'. Which was the biggest load of crap she has ever heard. But she will tolerate his presence. That is, until he hurts Henry. At that point the whole town will have to try to arrest her in order to stop her because she will tear him limb from limb herself and feed her to Ruby in her wolf form, if she would even eat anything so utterly disgusting. Or maybe donate the parts to Whal-Frankenstein; he could always use the parts for his continued research. But he would never be on a personal level with her again nor would he be able to hurt anyone she loves without paying the price.

On that satisfied note Emma fell asleep. Not even noticing the continued pounding of the music, or the front door quietly creek open to an utterly perplexed Killian Jones. Nor did she hear his footsteps as he shut off the music and examined her notes with a frown or his sigh of finally understanding and the quick scratching noise of a pen over paper. Nor did she feel gentle hands scoop her up and hold her like precious cargo or the whispered words of how he would never deserve her either. Nor the loving kiss bestowed on her head or the sound of footsteps that carried her upstairs to bed, shutting off lights as they went.

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When Emma awoke, the sun was shining brightly and she was experiencing a head splitting headache as well as a mouth drier than the Sahara desert. She was also in her bed, which was peculiar seeing as how she fell asleep on the couch with Carrie Underwood on repeat. But it all became clear when Emma heard the distinct sounds of breakfast being made in the kitchen. She found a glass of water on her bedside table which she drank gratefully before realizing that was not the only thing there.

She remembered writing notes at some point last night but she thought she had written three, but only found two that bore her writing. Both of which were pretty standard for her drunken ramblings, they read: 'fuck you Neal' and 'You do not deserve me, you never did and you certainly do not deserve me now'. The third however was in Killian's hand even though most of the words were her own. He did leave her a small note on top with these words: 'I am sorry love, but I thought this last one deserved to be delivered just as you deserve to move on. I recopied it here for you. I love you.' Emma's heart sang every time she heard or saw him those words. Underneath his message was a picture of a hook and a swan forming a heart, Emma had to laugh at his creativity but knowing him he probably stole the idea from Henry. Her note in Killian's writing read: 'I am glad you left my life. It allowed me to grow as an individual and become strong and independent in a way I never would have if you had stayed. Your leaving has also allowed me to meet better and caring people like Henry, Mary-Margret, David, Ruby, and Killian. And pretty much everyone else in this town. Thank you Neal for leaving my life.'

Son of a gun, Emma thought, He actually gave those words to Neal. Killian delivered the note and the words she had been to chicken to say to Neal ever since she saw him again and she tore off the swan necklace. She was glad the words would finally get there. He, just like she, deserved to know the truth of things. The truth that there is no going back, but she is grateful for having to be independent so young, being forced to grow and become the best she could be with strong core values she did not ditch when things became tough and is thankful for that. Now, time to thank the message bearer.

"Killian!" Emma bellowed, trying and failing to keep the affection out of her voice.

He came bounding into the room at the bellow of his name, wearing his favorite 'kiss the cook' apron as well as a sassy smile, "Yes, love?"

"I hate you," was all Emma replied reaching for him with a tender smile on her lips and love in her heart.

"I know," he answered her, briskly closing the steps between them and swooping in for a searing kiss.