Neal starts to walk away but he turns back and looks at her, wordlessly asking if she's coming. His eyes are unusually dark, Emma thinks, shrouded in layers of emotion. She can read every single feeling on his face like an old, familiar book. It might break her. She feels exposed around him, like she's never been around anyone else, but it doesn't matter. There's no other way for Emma to be around Neal Cassidy - even when all her walls are up he can see through them like glass.
The search party has no luck trying to find Tinkerbelle or Pan's camp. They've hiked for a couple hours before Emma starts to feel a familiar fatigue in her knees that comes from days of hiking with little rest. A week of living outdoors was starting to take its toll on her body and Emma no longer questions why humans seek shelter in insolated structures. She wonders if the dust and dirt will ever leave her sinuses completely. She worries about Henry going through the same. Where was he sleeping at night? Inside a tree? A cave? A tent? Outside, under the stars? Did he look up at those strange constellations and think of home?
Her head is aching with worry and bottled, bubbling emotions when she realizes everyone has stopped just ahead and Neal is speaking.
"We're not going to find anything or anyone today. We'll exhaust ourselves wandering around in circles and that's what Pan wants," Neal says. His mouth is set in a grim line.
"What are you saying?" David demands, "You think Pan knows about our plan? About Tinkerbelle?"
"I don't like thinking about it," Neal answers, "But that's the thing about Neverland. He's always a step ahead. He always has everyone right where he wants them."
"What are you suggesting? That we stop? Give up hope? Because it's not happening," Perhaps Emma is more hostile than she meant to be, but she's so tired, and she doesn't like what she's hearing.
"No one is suggesting we give up hope," Mary Margaret gently says to her daughter.
"The cave I lived in is nearby. We can regroup, grab supplies. Rest for a couple hours," Neal suggests.
"I can't." Emma shakes her head. "I can't sleep when Henry is out there."
"You need to sleep, love," Hook says, looking at her in that irritatingly perceptive way that he does. "You're crashing on your feet. You can't rescue the boy in such a state."
Emma glares at the pirate, but Hook doesn't back down so Emma looks away. She notices that her parents also look exhausted, the weight of the worlds on their shoulders. They are standing on either side of Neal Cassidy, neither of them looking at each other. Both of them looking at her and Emma sees what she's feeling, exhaustion and heartbreak, reflected in them.
Silently, Emma nods, acceding to the pirate's point. She pretends not to see the twitch in Neal's jaw as she moves through the group to lead them back to the cave. She is still angry, and too annoyed and weary to do anything more about it. He knows where he stands with her, and he said he understood. She isn't going to explain herself again. She already did, and she isn't going to go through that again. She needs every ounce of emotional strength she has left just to keep herself functioning to find Henry.
Everyone is settling down, to rest. Emma will pretend to sleep, like she always does, and then she'll be waking everyone up in two or three hours, like she always does. She notices David has laying out a blanket for Mary Margaret, and making himself scarce before she can see.
There is a lump in her chest and Emma tells herself its more worry for Henry, and nothing to do with her parents fighting. Or worrying that she might never see David and Mary Margaret again after she rescues Henry and takes him home.
Neal has dug out a different coconut. Maybe one of his star map prototypes. He has fixed the lighter and is sitting next to Hook, showing him how to use it. Hook takes the lighter in his right hand and ignites the flame, marveling at it. He uses the flame to light the candle in the coconut half Neal is holding up.
Hook hands the lighter back to Neal, but Neal shakes his head. "Keep it," Neal says. "I'll get another one."
"Thank you, Bae," Hook says, then glances at Neal sideways before correcting himself, "Neal. Thanks mate."
"Yeah," Neal says. He's looking up at the stars on the cave ceiling. Hook looks up at them too and they sit in what looks like a companionable silence.
Emma wonders about their history. Hook said he taught Neal to read stars, and without that knowledge Neal would have never escaped Neverland the first time. What happened after that? Why does Neal seem to hate Hook one moment, tolerate him the next, and sometimes they even look like friends?
Her thoughts are interrupted when Mary Margaret comes back in. She frowns when she realizes David isn't there, but sighs when she sees the blanket laid out, waiting for her. She moves slowly towards it to lie down. After a moment, Emma gets up to join her.
"Hey," Mary Margaret whispers after Emma lies down next to her mother.
"Hey," Emma says. She lies on her back, looking up at the lights. "You okay?" Emma offers.
Mary Margaret hesitates. Her back is to her and Emma can't see her face. But Emma will know if Mary Margaret lies to her, and she suspects her mother knows that as well.
"I'll be okay, Emma," Mary Margaret says. "David too. We'll be okay. Henry is the most important right now."
"Yes," Emma agrees. And she drops the subject. She thinks about Henry again. He'd love the coconut star maps his father made. It's something that Henry would think of himself. It's another reason why Henry reminds her so much of Neal. They were so alike, it's no surprise how quickly they accepted each other. Like it was the most natural thing for them to just love each other. So different than the way Emma accepted him.
She can hear Hook and Neal talking quietly for several minutes before they separate to rest. Neal leaves the star map on, and Emma secretly finds that comforting. If she's not going to sleep, it's nice to see the stars in the dark.
David comes back not long after. With the light, he can easily make out who is where. He moves to lie down close to his family, but not next to them. He probably thought he waited long enough for Mary Margaret to fall asleep, so he can be close, without worrying about invading Mary Margaret's space.
Emma lies in the silence, listening to everyone breathe. She can hear Neal, not far. She hates how familiar the sound of his breathing is.
Mary Margaret is suddenly moving, up on her feet, and moving purposefully to lie down next to David. Emma hears David whispering a question and Mary Margaret shushing him. And then Emma hears what she thinks is her mother softly kissing her father before the two of them shift around, settling back down to try and sleep.
She's suddenly very intensely jealous of her mother. She did not realize that she was lying there just as much for herself as she was for Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret didn't want to sleep next to David, or so Emma thought, so she went to comfort her friend. But it was easy for Mary Margaret to get up and move to the man she loved like being together was more important than whatever else was going on.
And Mary Margaret is right. It is more important to be together. But it's not that easy for Emma. Not with years of heartache, and rejection, and torch-carrying built up after she bottled it for so long. Now it is boiling over whenever she looks at Neal, and Emma might drown if she lets it-
Emma listens to Neal breathing.
Making up her mind, Emma sits up and moves, moving slightly across the cave floor until she is next to Neal, realizing he was closer than she thought. He's on his back, barely dozing instead of sleeping, like she knew he would be, both of them unable to sleep while Henry is out there somewhere needing them. Emma curls into his left side before he can protest.
Neal tenses up so fast that Emma does too, her fight-or-flight response warning her that she might need to move away.
"Emma-" Neal whispers, but Emma presses her fingers to his mouth.
"No," she says simply. She tells her instincts that she's going to fight instead of fly and forces her body to relax back into his side. It's difficult - she's feels like she did when she was seventeen, so worried that Neal would reject her when all she wanted was to crawl under his skin and make a home. But why would he want a homeless teenager hanging around, one who was too skinny, too awkward, too starved for his affection and too proud to show it?
Not so different from now, Emma thinks. And yet it's worlds apart. There's a chasm of history separating them and Emma's heart is broken over worrying for their son.
Neal's body slowly relaxes and the niggling fear in Emma's mind dissipates as he does. She let's go of the breath she was holding, exhaling into his neck, and berates herself when Neal's breath hitches and he tenses up again. She bends her neck and rests on his shoulder instead, moving her left hand to rest over his heart.
Emma curls tighter into him when she hears his heart, and feels it beat under her hand. Her fingers twitch, grasping slightly at the material of his shirt. The blood is moving under his skin like a river, a testament that he is here, alive, breathing, warm, the familiar scent and feel of him assaulting her senses. And it was painful. And wonderfully comforting at the same time.
Neal sighs and Emma starts to relax again. She feels her name before he whispers it. "Emma..." He swallows.
"Sorry," Emma whispers. "Sorry, I just need-" You. The words stick in her throat and Emma feels the tears burning in the back of her eyes again. She closes them and thinks that this was a bad idea, no matter how comforting it is to have someone she loves safe and whole and close, there is too much pain here between them, gaping wide-
Neal's left arm wraps around her shoulders and pulls her close. "We'll make it, okay Emma?" he whispers into her hair. "We'll find him. We'll find our son."
Two tears slip from under her eyelashes. Emma moves her hand to the buttons of his shirt and starts to tug them apart, in a familiar gesture she did hundreds of times. It was an intimate gesture, but strange with all the years between them. But Neal doesn't stop her and Emma doesn't want to stop. She undoes the top three and slips her hand underneath his shirt so there is only skin between her hand and his heart. She sighs.
"I know," she whispers.
Emma's pulse and breathing is suddenly so steady, more than it has been in awhile. A small peace washes over her. She's only barely aware of Neal wrapping his hand around her hair as she fades, under the stars Neal created, a map that will bring her family home.
Almost home, Emma thinks. And she dreams.