Her chest felt tight and uncomfortable under her red leather jacket. Emma wanted to disappear into the floorboards, hide away in the corner of the booth, find some way to be unseen so she didn't have to feel the weight of Regina's pain.
Regina had threatened her before. She'd nearly taken her life. But Emma had never seen her look so utterly wounded as when she saw Marian reunite with Robin and Roland. And that was all Emma's doing.
Fleeing from Granny's, she shot out into the street and spun around, trying to make sense of things.
"Mom?" Henry called from the doorway of Granny's. Emma glanced at him for a moment but then took off down the sidewalk. Her head thrummed with noise and chaos, making her eyes burn.
"Swan?" Hook's voice called from somewhere far away but Emma pressed on, picking up her pace on her journey to nowhere.
"Emma! Wait!" Hook called. His voice was closer and she knew, even with the leather and boots, he'd catch up to her.
"Don't say it!" she cried, stopping to turn towards him. She put her hands over her eyes and shook her head. "Just please don't say it. Don't tell me you told me so. I can't,"
"I wouldn't," Hook replied gently. He was standing next to her now. Emma tossed her head back and looked up at the starry sky.
"How do I always do this?!" she shouted up at the sky, "I'm supposed to be The Savior and I keep messing things up for everyone!"
"You just helped save the entire population of Storybrooke, love," Hook replied. Emma shot him a look.
"Yeah and in exchange for that I screw Regina's love life over by bringing back the supposed-to-be-dead wife of her true love," she said flatly.
She dropped her shoulders in defeat and slumped back against the side of the building.
"I just want a moment of normal. A moment where the world isn't imploding and no one is threatened by some inescapable monster and I'm not destroying the world of the people I care about," she muttered.
Hook stood in front of her and tucked his hand under her chin to bring her face up.
"You're Emma Swan, darling," he said with a smile, "Normal isn't worthy of you,"
Emma offered a half-sob but managed a smile. Killian traced the outline of her lips with his finger.
"But I hope I am," he said, his voice almost a whisper. Emma reached out to grab the high collar of his coat and pull him close into a long, lingering kiss. She became aware of sensation: the feel of the leather beneath her fingers, the pressure of the brick wall against her back, the smell of him so close to her, the taste of rum and warmth on his lips.
It was enough to wash her mind clean of the trials of the night. The day - or days? Time travel was the worst sort of jet lag - had been too long, too taxing. Now, her body was shutting down, giving in to instinct rather than rationality. There was no noise, no threat, no chaos in his kiss. It was an invitation to give herself up and free herself of the burden of being The Savior.