If Ever I Would Leave You

Emma couldn't stay in her parents' loft anymore. The heaviness of mourning, of sadness was too much. Henry was asleep and wouldn't miss her. And she couldn't be the focus of everyone's attention anymore, well-intentioned though it was. The sad side glances and understanding touches on her shoulder suddenly all became too much. She grabbed a jacket and made her way to the door, ignoring Mary Margaret's concerned questioning and David's worried stare. She found herself almost running down the building's stairs and burst from the door, gasping as her lungs frantically drew in the cool, fresh air. Emma bent, her hands resting on her knees, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself a few moments to relish the silence. She stood slowly and just started walking.

Emma wandered, no knowledge of where her feet were carrying her, and let her mind drift back to those last moments with Neil. Her heart clenched at the memory of Neil in her arms, his weight heavy against her breast, as he clung to those precious last minutes with her and his father. In its way, it had been beautiful. Neil hadn't been alone. He had been held, comforted. And they had finally been given the chance to say goodbye. Emma dashed away a lone tear as it trickled down her cheek. She hadn't been able to let Neil go after he had deserted her or after he had fallen through the portal. There had been no opportunity for forgiveness, for those last words of healing and farewell. As painful as losing him was, at least she had that.

The soft sounds of music broke through her reverie and Emma looked up in surprise to find that she was standing outside of Granny's. Emma found herself walking up to the door without quite knowing why. She had just left an apartment full of people. She needed time to herself, just to catch her breath, but felt compelled to go into the diner. She hesitated for a moment, her hand on the doorknob, but forced herself to pull it open and pass through. Emma was assailed with the familiar smells of coffee and cooking grease. The booths were empty, the counter stools bare except for one lone figure at the far end of the diner. Emma felt her breath catch in her throat as she took in the sight of the hunched figure in black. Hook. Though she hadn't made a sound, Hook's head snapped up and his brilliantly blue eyes met hers. Emma felt the pain radiating from him like a blow to her chest. Her hands clenched in reaction and she walked over slowly, sitting beside him.

They sat in silence for long moments until Hook finally spoke, his voice rough with emotion. "What are you doing here, Swan?" he asked softly. "Thought you'd be with your family."

Emma shrugged, her eyes trained on the countertop. "I couldn't stay," she replied. "I had to . . . get away from everyone else's feelings, if that makes any sense. I didn't feel like I could deal with my own with so many other people around."

Hook nodded and glanced over at her. "It makes sense," he acknowledged. "But how did you end up here?"

"I don't really know," Emma said, confusion in her voice. "I was just walking and when I looked up, I was here. I wasn't going to come in, but . . . I just . . . felt like I had to." Emma finally looked over at Hook, her eyes raking over him, taking in his pallor and the slump to his shoulders, the way his hand was clenched on the countertop. She felt her heart clench at the sight and slowly reached out to cover his hand with hers. Hooks hand jerked under hers before he quickly turned it over and tightly gripped her fingers.

"I know I don't have the right to feel as though I've lost something," he began, speaking so softly that Emma had to lean in to hear him. "Bae and I . . ." his voice broke off and his eyes slid closed as he exhaled sharply. "We hadn't been what you'd call close in a long time." Hook looked over at Emma and she bit her lip at the depths of pain she saw in his eyes. "But for a little while, he was . . . my second chance," he whispered. "My second chance and my greatest failure. When I handed him over to Pan, I betrayed him, his mother, and the life that we had hoped to have together." His hand clenched convulsively on hers and his face contorted. "I lost myself to darkness when I lost Baelfire," he admitted tightly, his voice a harsh whisper. "And then, after all of that betrayal, I let him walk out of that hospital to his death. I have no right to mourn someone I repeatedly let down so terribly."

Emma felt tears well in her eyes at the sadness and anger she heard in his voice but blinked them away. "Hoo . . ." she paused, that moniker suddenly sounding wrong on her lips. "Killian," she began again, her resolve almost crumbling at the way his head whipped around at his name, incredulity on his face. "I'm not going to say that the past doesn't matter. My history with Neil is proof of that. But what matters more than how things used to be is how things end up and if the people we care about know how we feel." She gripped his hand in both of hers, her fingers gently caressing his knuckles. "I know you must have talked at the hospital," Emma said gently. "You never would have let him past you without a good reason."

Killian nodded slowly, his brow furrowed. "We did talk," he replied. "He was standing before me, arguing with me to let him leave and save his son, and all I could see was . . .' his voice broke but he swallowed thickly and went on, 'the boy he had been. So happy and optimistic, following me around the Jolly with his never-ending questions." He shook his head sharply, a lone tear falling to the countertop, and laughed softly. "I don't know which of us was more surprised when I embraced him. I like to think we had perhaps started down the road of forgiveness."

Emma released a shuddering breath and passed a hand over her face, surprised to find it wet with tears. "I think you were, too," she whispered. "And that's what you have to remember, Killian," she insisted. "When you care about someone, you have every right to mourn what you lost. Or what could have been."

Killian sat in silence for a moment and then, slowly, raised their clasped hands and gently pressed his lips to her fingers. "Thank you, Emma," he murmured.

They sat in silence until the door open and the sacredness of the place was broken. Killian straightened his shoulders and quickly wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Come on, love," he said quietly. "I'll walk you home."

"No," Emma replied, rising to stand next to him. "I . . . can't go home right now." She looked up at him, green eyes clinging to blue. "Will you walk with me for a bit?"

Killian looked at her for a long moment and then extended his arm, placing her hand in his bent elbow and covering it with his hand. "Of course, love," he replied. "For as long as you wish".

AN: This is my very first OUAT fanfiction and I absolutely love Captain Swan. SO MANY FEELS! I can't quite decide if this should be a one-shot or a multi-chapter. Please let me know what you think – love it, hate it, want to see it go on, etc. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my story and if you could just take one more moment and review, I would be so grateful!