Hook had tried to drown his sorrows at the Rabbit Hole, but even the bar was too much for him. He knew Neal's death had a profound effect on him if he couldn't even get drunk properly. Head down, heart heavy, he decided to go back to the ship, hoping some sleep could ward off the painful memories still occupying his thoughts.
Also occupying his thoughts was Emma. He wanted to talk to her and knew he should but couldn't. After taking her home that fateful night, he hadn't said a word to her. He could barely even look at her at the funeral, the pain too much for both of them. And just the thought of talking to her made him feel like he would be betraying Neal. They had butted heads before but had come so far in that past year. He was no longer the young Baelfire on the Jolly Roger's deck. He was become Neal - even to Hook - and he was someone the pirate respected and missed.
As Hook climbed the gangplank, he took a quick glance at his deck to make sure all was in order. That's when he saw her blonde hair shimmering in the moonlight as she sat near the bow staring at the water beyond. Why couldn't he be alone tonight without her invading his grief?
"Swan, why are you here?" he asked, annoyance creeping into his voice. But she didn't answer him. "Swan?" Still no answer. He walked towards her, his worry starting to increase with every step. "Emma?" She gave a start as if she was surprised he was there and quickly wiped away the tears from her face, trying to hide her pain from him.
He quietly took a seat next to her and waited for her to compose herself before he spoke again. "What are you doing here, lass?" he said quietly, trying to hide his own pain with little success.
"I uh…" She started looking around as if she had only just figured out where she was. "I honestly don't know."
"Well then where did you come from?"
The confusion on her face deepened and it was only then that Hook realized she wasn't even wearing a coat despite the chill. "I think I walked here from somewhere," she said before letting out a sheepish but sad laugh. " This is ridiculous. I can't remember why I'm here or how I got here."
His own pain started to subside and he reached for her hand. It was freezing. "Let's get you inside and warm you up, love."
She stood hesitantly but without protest and Hook put his hand on the small of her back to direct her down to his quarters. As she walked across his deck, he realized how much weight she seemed to be carrying on her shoulders.
He guided her down the stairs to let her in but as he took his coat off, he realized Emma stood still behind him just inside the doorway. He draped the coat over her shoulders to give her some warmth and that's when the tears started streaming down her face. The pirate pulled her into his arms, feeling the wetness on his chest and her body shaking as she swallowed the sobs threatening to break from her lips. He ran his fingers through her hair in hopes that it would comfort her. And as it did, she quietly wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer as if the nearness would take away the sorrow she was holding onto.
They stood there in dark silence, the only light coming from the moon outside his windows. When she finally pulled away, he could still see her in the shadows as she quickly wiped her face, trying desperately again to hide something she could never hide from him.
"Come on, love," he said, directing her to a chair by his table. Hook lit the small kerosene lamp in the middle of it, which gave him enough light to find his rum and some small glasses. Then he poured two drinks and placed one in front of Emma, which she quietly grabbed.
"To Neal," he said as he clinked his glass against hers.
"To Neal," she repeated.
They both quickly downed the liquor, Emma a bit faster than Hook, and she put her glass down with a little more force than he would've expected from her. "Haven't we done this before already?" she asked bitterly.
"Aye, we have."
She stared at her empty glass. "Sometimes, I think this is just fake again. Like Neal is going to come back from the dead like he did before."
"I doubt that's going to happen this time," Hook said wearily.
Emma took a deep breath but kept her eyes on her glass. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to judge me for it?"
Hook nodded. "You have my word."
"When we were in Neverland, in that cave, I told Neal….I told him..." She paused, trying to control the hitch in her voice. "My secret was that I wished he was dead."
Hook reached out and grabbed her hand. "You didn't wish for this, Emma. This wasn't your fault."
She looked up at him with a piercing glare. "Are you sure about that? Because you were there. You saw me and I didn't stop it."
He surely saw her that night, following her as fast as he could as she ran towards Neal only to see that witch rip his heart out in the street. He stood next to her as she cradled the head of her child's father in her lap, sobbing over his body, begging him to not be dead. And it was Hook who carried her home in his arms when she was too exhausted and weary to make it there herself.
He played that night over and over again in his mind trying to find a way to save Neal, but he always came up empty. He understood the guilt she carried with her - he carried it as well. But their current foe was stronger than anyone they had ever faced, alone or together. They never had a chance that night.
"You did try. We all did," he finally said, his voice taking on a depressing tone. "The witch wanted Neal and none of us could've stopped her. It would've only delayed the inevitable and Henry would be without a father and mother if you stood in her way." She put her head down to avoid his glare. "You did everything you could to help him."
She just smiled sadly before taking her hand from his and grabbing his flask from the table. She poured more rum in their glasses and then quickly downed it. Being the gentleman that he was, he wasn't going to let her drink alone, especially not when she had been kind enough to pour for him. It gave him some needed confidence to be truthful with her.
"Swan, I'm not one to dwell on the frivolous, but there's something I need to say."
"Is it one of your famous cheeky remarks? I haven't heard any of those lately."
He raised an eyebrow, which elicited a small smile from her that he had missed dearly. "No, Swan," he said sarcastically. "It's less frivolous than that." He took a breath, feeling guilty about even mentioning it but telling himself that it would at least be comforting to get it out there. "Neal and I were somewhat foes when it came to your heart and he's gone now -"
"I'm not there yet, Hook," Emma said quickly. "I'm just not."
"I know, love."
"With Neal's death, I …." Emma swallowed, unable to finish her thought.
Hook nodded. "I feel the same way about him," he replied gruffly. "I want you to know that I'm not giving up on you, but we both need some time to heal. So know that you won't have to reject any advances from me - not until you're ready, of course."
She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently, wordlessly thanking him for the consideration.
"Besides, let's be honest," he said, leaning on the table to get closer to Emma, "I was never really competing with him for you, was I?"
She looked at him skeptically. "So who were competing with?"
"You," he said, looking deep into her eyes. "I told you that when I win your heart, it will be because you want me, and that has nothing to do with anyone but us."
Emma looked back down at the table, fumbling with her empty drink glass. A silence fell over the cabin as they both sat listening to the waves lap against the sides of the boat. Then she gave him a sad smile. "I should probably get home."
"You should stay here tonight. Totally innocent invitation, I promise."
"Thanks, but I need to go."
"Let me at least walk you home," he said.
"I'll be OK. Don't worry."
Hook sighed. She could be so stubborn sometimes. "Swan, you can't remember how you got here and you didn't have a jacket. I would feel better if you would just let me get you home."
"Fine," she said curtly, pushing herself away from the table to stand and take off his leather coat.
"Keep it for now," he said.
"It's cold outside," she replied, trying to hand it to him.
Hook gave her a warm smile, one even he had missed these past few days, and draped it back over her shoulders. "I'm a pirate with a hook for a hand. A little cool air is nothing."
She led them down the gangplank and as they walked along the dock, she slipped her arms through the sleeves of his coat and crossed her arms to put it closed in front of her. She looked amazing, even sexy, walking down the street wearing his treasured possession.
They walked in silence past Storybrooke's store fronts, too afraid to say anything that could disrupt their quiet mourning for Neal. But they were mourning together, which gave Hook a little more strength as he walked with her. He had felt so alone with his thoughts since Neal's death that it was comforting to have someone who understood walking alongside him. Even without saying a word, her presence was soothing to his soul and by the way she was walking, he felt like he was having the same effect on her.
He heard a little laugh escape her lips as they passed Granny's bed and breakfast. "What was that, lass?" he asked teasingly.
"I was just thinking," she said. "My first nights in Storybrooke were spent at Granny's. So much has changed for me since then, you know?" She looked down at the ground. "Not always good changes, but I guess that's life, isn't it?"
"There's always hope," he said. "You have no idea how much I heard that from your parents this past year. It was sickening really. Reassuring, of course, but sickening."
"Reassuring?" Emma asked incredulously. "I know my parents are Snow White and Prince Charming and all, but I don't know if I can get on their 'hope' bandwagon right now."
"Maybe not now, but it got me back to you. I think that's worth something, don't you?"
Emma simply responded by grabbing hold of the crook of his elbow and snuggling herself into his side, the wind brushing her hair against his chest. Hook couldn't help but feel radiant to have her on his arm in his coat even with all the darkness that surrounded them.
Once inside, Emma led him up the stairs to her door before fumbling around in her pockets.
"Did you forget your keys too, lass?" Hook asked teasingly.
She responded by pulling them out of her back pocket with a flourish and a smile to prove she had them. She turned the key and slowly unlocked the door, then stuffed them back in her pocket. She started to slip off his coat and he grabbed the collar to help her out of the leather. "Thank you," she said softly.
"You looked good in it, Lady Swan."
She gave him a half smile. "I mean, thanks for everything." He nodded quietly, acknowledging that what he had done for her - for them - that night was so much bigger than a coat.
She was about to close the door when he put his hand up to stop it from shutting. "Emma." She looked back at him with her piercing eyes and he had to fight the urge to reach out for her. "You and I, we understand each other. We're not the 'loquacious' types. But if you need to talk, come find me."
"And you find me," she said.
"Always."
Emma nodded her head and quietly pushed her way into her apartment, leaving Hook to stare at the numbers on her door. Then he slipped on his coat and walked back to his ship, comforted by the warmth that lingered from Emma's body.