Written for the nealfirexchange for lostboybae/nevernevergirl who asked for: Any fic centering around Neal between Tallahassee and Manhattan.

Let Her Go
One-Shot

He drifted through Canada for a year before he somehow managed to drift back over the border. The States welcomed him back as quietly as it had said goodbye—with no reaction at all. He'd lied his way over before, fake smile on his face as he handed over equally fake papers, but when he came back, it was just with a duffle bag. August had taken the Bug back to Emma months ago, his last gift to her.

His breath caught in his throat at the thought of her name and he pressed his eyes shut. Damn it. She crept back into his mind every time he tried to keep her out, tried to save himself from the regret and the self-hatred her name brought. So many mistakes. So many things he could have done differently if he hadn't been the coward everyone always claimed his papa was.

Head in his hands and fingers tangled in too-long hair, Neal sighed. There wasn't any going back now. He knew that. Everything he'd done and the consequences she'd paid for it… He tried to reconcile it in his head, that he hadn't known she'd get caught or that she'd end up in jail, but that didn't do anything to quiet the voice that said he should have gone back once he knew. He should have gone back, should have turned himself in and paid the price instead of her.

Coward.

Damn it.

The guilt stayed with him as he stared out the window of the coffee shop, eyes sad. It had been almost two years, almost two years and there was no going back. There was no fixing it, even if August kept to his promise and contacted him after Emma had fulfilled her destiny. Eight more years. Eight more years for her to get used to the hate he knew she probably felt for him, that she should feel for him.

He needed to let her go and move on with his life. Forget the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed. Forget the way she looked at him when she said I love you. Forget the way he'd loved her—still loved her—so much that it felt like he couldn't breathe.

Except letting go didn't include the cramped apartment he had in Tallahassee and forgetting didn't include the choked up chuckles whenever he thought about her bemoaning the fact that there wasn't a beach.

He didn't let go.

He didn't forget.

He couldn't. Emma was seared into him, past his brain and his heart until her imprint was left on his soul and he couldn't move on from that. Sentimental and pathetic, he thought, but what did he expect when he'd grown up believing in the strength of true love? Hundreds of years escaped from the Enchanted Forest and living under the hell of Neverland and his basic instincts still ached for something this world didn't offer. Every wall he'd built up as a means of survival and Emma had shattered them in a look. He'd let her in before he realized he had and she'd wormed her way in too deep. Too permanent.

He thought about the girl that had left his apartment that morning, brown hair messy and clothes haphazard, and he felt nothing. Drowning himself in regret and women that were the polar opposite of the one he'd left—he couldn't even say he'd lost her, could he?—and it still didn't make him feel better. He didn't expect it to. He was simply waiting to go numb again.

He thought he'd almost reached it by the next year. Then, she walked by the window of his regular coffee shop and everything came rushing back. Shock. Disbelief. His heart stopped dead and dropped into his stomach.

Emma.

He took her in as fast as he could. Older and different, but he'd always be able to pick her out of a crowd, no matter how long it had been. The little dresses and baggy jackets were gone, exchanged for jeans that directed his eyes to her ass and a tank top that hugged her chest. She was still beautiful. Her hair was down now, loose curls hanging over her shoulders instead of tied back in the ponytail, and her glasses were gone.

New person. New Emma. Still in love with her. Still so damn in love with her.

He was out of his seat before he could stop himself, coffee forgotten on the table, and rushed out of the shop after her. She'd punch him, he thought, and it would be no less than what he deserved, but…

He stopped. Stopped mid-step and feet away from her as she waited at a crosswalk, her back to him as she checked her watch. He couldn't do it. He couldn't come crashing into her life again and bring everything back. The way he'd hurt her. The things she'd gone through because of him. The destiny she still had to fulfill. She had a life she was supposed to live and for as much as he'd argued it with August, the years had worn him down until he realized he couldn't be a part of it. He couldn't be a part of her.

He was the peasant standing in the shadow of a princess, too good for him and meant for more than he could give. He'd give her the world if he could, but when he was barely getting by on his own… He was still a thief, lying and stealing, but with more finesse than he'd had when they'd been together. She wasn't. He could tell where he stood that she wasn't like that anymore. She didn't walk like she was ready to break into a run. She didn't glance around like she was nervous and looking for an escape.

She was sure and confident and he'd pull her right back to the girl she'd been before. She deserved more than that, more than him and the pain his memory would bring.

The red lights at the crosswalk turned white and when she stepped into the street, he didn't follow. Couldn't. Wouldn't. Heart breaking all over again, he watched her go. His eyes burned as she disappeared around a corner and he breathed her name like he was saying I'm sorry and I love you all at once.

Princesses didn't fall for spinner's sons and they didn't find true love in cowards.

He lost himself in a blonde that night, his noises choked as he breathed Emma's name instead of hers. She didn't ask. He didn't apologize and left her apartment with his shirt inside-out and wondering if he'd ever stop hating himself for letting Emma go.

He didn't think he would.

The End