A/N: Written in response to the idea that fucking Neal is in New York and Emma finds him. Also because my multi-chapter story is depressing even me.
Emma sighed yet again, taking another draught of whiskey. Neal was seeping through her thoughts like poison. And here she had thought she'd gotten rid of him. She rubbed a hand over weary red-rimmed eyes.
"Mom?" Emma turned to see Henry standing in the hallway.
"Yeah, kid?" She asked, perking up a litle. Henry always cheered her up.
"You really don't like him, do you?" Emma sighed again, lookiing down guiltily.
"No." She replied quietly. Henry shrugged.
"I was just thinking that if you didn't like him, maye I didn't have to get to know him... I mean, if you want me to, I would, but..." Emma knelt down and hugged him.
"You don't have to know him if you don't want to, Henry. He may be your father, but he doesn't have to be your dad." Emma was actually glad Henry didn't want to get to know Neal. She had loved him once, and he had left her high and dry. She didn't want him doing that to Henry, too.
"Thanks, mom." Henry whispered into her ear.
After tucking him into the hotel room's bed, Emma went back to her drink feeling considerably better. Tomorrow, she'd get Mr. Gold- sorry, Rumplestiltskin- to curse Neal. She didn't care what it took.
Just as she was finishing her drink, there was a frantic knocking on the hotel room door.
Killian honestly couldn't believe how long it had taken to get from their land to Storybrooke. Honestly, it was hell. He had spent the last few weeks observing the whole town. Whole town, yeah. Not just Sheriff Swan or anything. No, he totally wasn't focused only on her. No.
Oh, he so was.
When Gold managed to get over the town line, Shriff and Henry in tow, and go to New York, Killian barely managed to restrain himself before he launched himself at the man. Whether it was because of Milah or Emma, Killian didn't want to think.
So here he was, soaking wet, driving his beautiful ship through the worst storm to hit the Atlantic in several years. It wasn't as bad as the whirlpools that sent you from world-to-world, but it was definitely rough sailing.
He didn't dare think of what Cora'd say if she was with him.
Killian really didn't dare think about lots of things.
Blasted things.
A wave nearly swept him over the side of the ship and he cursed the luck that had left him crewless in ths new world. Tightening a line of rop around his waist, he released the mainsail and continued plunging forth among the rain.
Killian sighed, collapsing over the helm. He brushed dripping wet hair out of his eyes and leaned backward.
"Finally." He breathed. New York City. He looked up at the gargantuan green lady towering over the bay. "Well hello, there. I wonder how old you are." A group of tourists on a ferry began taking pictures of him, so Killian waved cheerily. He leaned sideways, as though sharing a secret with the Lady Liberty.
"I bet you're not so old as me."
Emma turned, drawing in a breath. When she saw who was behind her, she forgot to let it out.
"Hi Emma." Neal smiled sheepishly.
Emma grit her teeth, drew up her shoulders, and stalked right up to him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" SHe hissed, clenching her fists.
"Well, I got out. I made something of myself." Neal smiled again, less certain this time.
"After leaving me eighteen, pregnant, and heartbroken in PRISON." Emma seethed. Mr. Gold placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. The young boy was looking more and more confused by the second.
"I wanted what was best for you-"
"Well maybe you don't get to decide that!" Emma burst out. And then, with a truly frightening amount of catharsis, she drew back her fist and and punched him as hard as she possibly could in the face. "Nobody decides what's best for me without asking first." She huffed. "Come on Henry."
"Wait!" There was a faint cry behind them, but Emma ignored it, walking away with her hand around Henry's shoulders. Gold just smirked at the man lying in pain on the ground, swirling away in a flash of black coat and snow.
Killian, looking through a telescope, gathered quite easily what was progressing and was most decidedly unhappy with it.
He was far too concerned about her. About her son. Rumplestiltskin- three hundred years' gratification- was lying right beside his hand, and yet he stretched it in the opposite direction.
He could only blame this realization on fucking Neal.
He needed a drink.
The knocking continued, more forcefully this time.
"What?" Emma threw open the door, more to save Henry from waking up than because of any real desire to talk to anyone. She definitely did not expect to be faced with an obviously slightly drunk Captain Hook who smelled like salt and rainwater.
"Hook." SHe breathed softly. Then, snapping back to herself, she shook her head. "What are you doing here?"
"I saw him." He swallowed, seeming more earnest than was probably decent. "I heard what you said."
"Saw who?" She ased, dreading the answer she knew was coming. "What did I say?"
"Fucking Neal. You said he abandoned you." Hook sort of wiggled his hands and looked at them curiously, like he had forgotten they were there.
"He did, and why are you calling him 'fucking' Neal?" Emma shepherded him inside, figuring that when he was in this state, there was probably no way he was dangerous.
"Because he's the one who's bloody responsible!" Hook said loudly, and Emma found herself covering his mouth to stop Henryy from waking up. She tried to tell herself that feeling his stubble beneath her palm really wasn't that nice.
But it was.
"Mma, whert er oo ooang ith y mouf?" Hook tried to say around her fingers.
"Henry's asleep." She let go of his face. "What is Neal responsible for?"
Killian bit his lip and looked up at her. He wasn't as drunk as she'd thought. It actually seemed to be less the alcohol and more the fact that he was being honest with her that was making him so odd.
"He's responsible for making me realize I'm in love with you." He whispered, a quiet sort of fire burning under his words.
Emma reeled back, collapsing into a chair.
"So what, Hook? You came all the way from Fairy doo-dah land to come and tell me my ex made you figure out that you're in love with me?!" Emma laughed mirthlessly. "Wow."
"Yep." Killian smiled. "Pretty much."
Emma's anger faded once she realized he meant it.
"Seriously?" she asked, eyes wide. He nodded.
"Sailed 287 miles in the pouring rain, lass. WOuldn't do that just for anyone." He poured himself a glass of whiskey, hands steady.
"You're not drunk!" Emma shrieked, scandalized. "You- you tricked me into letting you in!"
"Now I have bested you." Hook smirked, setting a glass in front of her. "Drink up. You look like you need it."
"I hate you." Hook smiled.
"No you don't." He leant down and, more nervous than he seemed, pressed a kiss to the edge of her mouth.
"No. I don't." She breathed.
They both smiled.
Wow. Killian took another sip of whiskey, looking over towards Emma, who was currently philosophically occupied with an orange.
He loved her.
It had been 300 years since he'd loved anyone.
Wow. He tried to remember the last time he'd had sex.
300 years?
Wow.
He'd bet a hundred pieces of gold Emma'd be good at sex.
Maybe he was drunk.
Wow.
Emma found that getting drunk with Hook was about four times as fun as you'd think.
Really, though.
Waking up on the couch with his arm around her waist and her face buried in his shirt wasn't half-bad either.
"Morning, Mom." Henry smiled, waving at her while breaking eggs into a frying pan.
"Morning henry," she muttered into Killian's chest.
She sat up.
Oh god.
"Henry?" Emma asked, eyes wide. "Does this freak you out at all?"
"The fact that you're dating Captain Hook?" Henry smirked.
"We're not dating." quibbled Emma, forgetting her worry for a second.
"No, it's cool." Henry continued making scrambled eggs. Emma flopped back down and began wondering why Henry was so completely fine with this.
Killian pretended to be asleep and grinned.
When they left to talk to Mr. Gold, Emma left Killian asleep and pasted a note to his face.
When they came back he was gone.
"Killian?" Emma called, turning.
He froze, back to her. He hadn't wanted her to regret whatever had happened in New York, so eh'd left before she could say anything. He'd forgotten they'd be coming back to Storybrooke.
He turned around slowly.
Ah. They brought Fucking Neal back with them. Great.
"You called me Killian." He said shakily. She took a step forward.
"Couldn't call you Hook, now could I?" She bit her lip nervously.
"And why not?" He took a step of his own, closer and closer.
"Well, that's not something you should call the man you love, now is it?" They were face-to-face now, Killian cautious, hopeful. Emma smiling, truly smiling.
"You love me then?" He whispered teasingly.
"Shut up." She laughed, pulling him forward to kiss him properly. After a minute he pulled back, dipping her down to whisper into her ear.
"Gladly." He dove back in.
Taking Neal down to the station was a much easier task now that she had Killian back. Unfortunately, Neal was apparently still under the delusion that Emma loved him.
It was, quite frankly, one of the most terrifying things she'd ever seen.
"But Emma, you'll come back for me!" Neal threw himself up against the bars of the cell.
"Nope." She crossed her arms. Killian seethed quietly in the corner.
"She hates you. Mate." He broke out, "So why don't you shut up, already?"
Neal just smirked, Emma unlocking the cell to handcuff him.
"She loves me."
Emma looked at Killian and nodded wearily.
WIthout another word, Killian stepped forward and punched Neal in the stomach. Now that he was collapsing, both Emma and Killian managed to handcuff him to the cot.
"Well that's done." Killian sighed, putting an arm around her waist, Emma leaning into him.
"Who the hell is he?" Charming asked, disgruntled by the very obvious insanity of the cell's occupant.
"Fucking Neal." Killian and Emma replied as one, both sighing.
"Who?" Snow raised an eyebrow.
"Henry's father." Emma said, eyeing Neal oddly as he began chewing the bars of the cell. "For the record, he was not this crazy when I met him."
"Yeah. I hope not." Charming said, Snow tilting her head in fascinated horror.
"Yeah. Leaving now." Emma kissed Killian on the cheek and walked away. "Gotta pick up Henry at school."
"Can I punch him?" Asked Charming suddenly.
"Why not?" Killian shrugged, tossing him the keys to the cell.
"Wow." Emma said, tilting her head. "What happened?"
"Your father." Snow supplied cheerily.
"I'm really glad he approves of Killian." Emma cleared her throat. "Because that looks brutal."
THE END.
Okay. So, um, I kind of lied. Neal gets punched three times, Schwin.
I HOPE THIS WAS FLUFFY ENOUGH. I'M NOT SURE WHAT IT IS, OR WHAT HAPPENED TO NEAL, BUT LET'S JUST SAY HE WAS CURSED BY MR. GOLD AND SO ON.