Emma didn't remember anything about the service except Charley's Girl had been sung. That song reached her shattered heart and registered in her grief-fogged mind. Several people spoke – Belle, Robin Hood, Tinker Bell, and even Hook. What they said, she didn't hear. Emma barely could see them – her eyes were glazed over with tears. She knew that David and Mary Margaret had sat on either side of her, much to the confusion of Henry. But, Emma hadn't protested nor had she stopped David from wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her close as Snow stroked her hair all the while Emma fiddled with the necklace Neal had returned.

After the service, everyone paid their respects and trudged from the church – one after the other. The burial wasn't going to happen until tomorrow, thus the congregation either went to their respected homes or to Granny's diner. Soon, the only ones left standing on the steps of the church were David, Snow White, and Henry. Emma didn't know what to do or say. They probably should get out of here; go home (well to Mr. Gold's shop as they'd chosen that as the safe-haven for now). However, Emma wasn't ready.

Mary Margaret approached Emma. She carefully pried Emma's fingers from around the swan-keychain-necklace that Emma had not let go of since putting it back on. "Emma, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," her mother said for about the thousandths time. It came out weak and tired, much as Emma felt right then and there.

"Mom? When will the pain end? I didn't…I didn't want him dead. I was just afraid," Emma stammered as fresh tears formed in her red-rimmed eyes. "I don't know what to do! He should be here. Just make it stop." She leaned her head against her mother's shoulder as to hide her tears.

"But, he's not. I know you're in pain. I hate it and I wish I could take it away. But, you need to be strong. Think of Henry," Mary Margaret cooed, while stroking her daughter's hair. "He needs you."

Emma parted from the embrace. She took a deep, shaking breath. "You're right. He needs me," the blonde agreed. The words were supposed to sound strong; they were supposed to convince her to be strong and that she was strong. "David…Mary Margaret, can you take Henry to Gold's? I want to go say good-bye."

David raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure that's wise?" he asked. "What if something happens?"

"I'm sure. I'll be fine. It won't be long," Emma replied. David gave her a protesting glare, which she ignored. Before another verbal warning could be uttered, the grief-stricken blonde turned on her heals and marched back into the church.

She shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Closing her eyes she breathed in and out – in and out. She could do this. She had to do this. This was closure and Emma needed that more than anything. With unsteady steps, she walked to the casket.

Emma grasped the black enameled coffin and stared down at the man within it. He was dressed in a suit and his dark curly hair was combed back and tidy, but he still had the little scruff on his chin. He'd never been that still before; even in sleep Neal had tossed and turned.

"I miss you. And I hate you. We should've had Tallahassee. You know it and I know it. You know full well that I couldn't and wouldn't be able to have Tallahassee with anyone but you. I tried. You tried. It didn't work. It was never going to work," Emma began as anger rose in her chest. "I needed you. Even though I told you I wished you were dead, I didn't mean it. You knew that too. I was just scared. I was scared of feeling. I was scared you'd leave again. And you did leave! You left me when I needed you most. And Henry needs you! He's going to need you."

Her voice broke. Large tears rolled down her cheeks as she collapsed against the casket. With each sob, her body shook. This wasn't fair. He didn't deserve to die. All Neal had done with his life was sacrifice. This was his reward? Dying without any true closure? Dying without happiness?

She stood so that she was standing in front of the casket. With a tender hand, she brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. "Oh, Neal, I love you. I wanted Tallahassee with you. I always did. But, it's too late. I've realized it and it's…too late," Emma whispered, bending down and kissing Neal on the forehead.

A breeze wafted through the room. It was warm and comforting, but also really scary, but very familiar. Emma stumbled backwards as she stared at the coffin. Neal began to cough.