AN: I don't write OUAT fics. Never have. If I did, they'd all be Captain Swan... But it looks like I've started. I may have finished, too, but that's only because I don't know how I feel about this. It's hard writing characters you've never written before. I hope I captured them correctly. Or well enough, at least. If you read this, let me know your thoughts?

Enjoy!

After checking on Henry through the door adjoining their two rooms, Emma walked into the hallway. Once she was sure her door was locked, she padded to the room at the end of the hall in her pajamas and a pair of socks Henry had bought her for Christmas during the year they spent in New York. They were soft and reminded her of happier times, times when it was just her and her son.

Now things were complicated and her first love was dead. Neal was... dead. She wasn't over it, probably never would be. But she wasn't the only one suffering. Now, more than anything in the world, she wanted Henry to get his memories back so he would remember the father Neal had been to him. Yes, their time together was brief, but Neal loved their son and Henry deserved to know that, to feel that. It's not like Emma wanted him to suffer alongside her, but she wanted Neal's life to be celebrated by the one person who loved him unconditionally.

Then there was Hook. Hook who's door at the end of the hall she was standing outside of. She saw him briefly at Granny's while she and Henry split a burger and fries, but he kept to himself at the end of the counter as he looked out the window like he was expecting his friend to walk by and join him. Hook and Neal weren't always friends. Emma knew that much, but they always respected one another. And Hook took care of him when he was a boy.

And now he was alone in his room, had been long before Emma and Henry got back to their own. She made sure Henry got to bed okay before pulling on her pajamas and trying to sleep herself, but the man at the end of the hall was weighing on her mind. So, that's when she checked on Henry and made her way to his room. Now, she finally knocked, letting her hand rest flat against the wood until she heard movement. But she didn't hear any movement. She glanced around her, looked quickly down the stairs, but everything was dark and quiet. So, she knocked again.

"Hook?" She whispered, drumming her fingers against the door. Nothing.

When she let her hand wander toward the knob, she almost talked herself out of turning it, but when there was no resistance, she pushed the door open. Hook was sitting on the floor, his legs stretched in front of him as he sat beneath the window. In his hand was a bottle of rum and his hook was moving slowly next to his leg, gently digging into Granny's wood floor. Emma's heart broke for the second time that day and she let herself in, closing his door quietly behind her. When she stood in front of him, he brought the bottle to his lips, but kept his eyes trained on the floor. She sighed and sat down next to him, taking his hook in her hand and resting it in her lap.

"We're going to get through this, Hook," she said quietly and he let a low, humorless chuckle out at the words. She rolled her eyes, but stayed with him, let his hook remain in her lap. His long leather coat was resting on the trunk at the end of his bed and his shirt was even more unbuttoned than it typically was.

"Hook?" When he didn't say anything or look at her, Emma cleared her throat. "Killian."

"Swan," he replied, slowly turning his head to look at her. She attempted a smile, but his blue eyes were even bluer when they were rimmed with tears and her face fell instead.

"You're not the only one hurting right now," she told him and her own eyes began to well. "We can be here for each other. That's what friends are for. I am here."

"I've made it quite clear I don't want be your friend, Emma," Hook reminded her and she nodded. "But, you're right," he relented. "You loved him. And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry you lost someone else you care about. You don't deserve this pain."

"Haven't you heard, love? I'm a villain. I deserve all the pain in the world," he said before licking his lips and taking another sip of the rum. He offered her the bottle and she took it, downed a good amount, and put it on the floor next to her- out of his reach.

"You're not a villain, Killian," she insisted once the sharp taste of the alcohol was off her tongue. "Not anymore. And Neal knew that. He knew what you did to help save our son and he knows what kind of man you've become. A good man. Some might even say a hero," she said, ending in a smile.

She watched as his eyes slid up to hers and, though still a little wet, they looked more playful than before. "Some might say? Are you part of that 'some,' Swan?"

"Maybe," she shrugged, her smile widening. Hook nodded and rested his head against the window sill behind them. "If Henry remembered you, he'd think you were a hero. And he would know. Have you met his grandparents?"

"Ah, yes, the Charmings. I'm familiar," he smirked. "Henry never cared for me, love. He surely doesn't now."

"Henry cares for everyone," Emma promised and Hook nodded, knowing that to be true. "And if we don't find a way to get his memories back, I'm going to need you to tell him about his father. He should know what kind of kid he was. You know that better than anyone."

"That I do," Hook replied, back to his somber tones and downcast eyes. Emma took the opportunity to look him over and he looked rough. Rougher than the normal pirate she was used to. He was broken; she guessed he always had been in someway. She didn't want him to be broken anymore, but she wasn't sure if she was the one who could put him back together.

"Will you tell me what kind of kid he was?" She asked and he looked at her with a furrowed brow and narrow eyes. "I loved him once and I never knew the truth about who he was. This way, I get to learn a little about the both of you."

Hook took a deep breath and his eyes dug into her, looking for the possibility of a deeper meaning beneath her words. "Aye, what would you like to know, love?" He asked slowly and she shrugged, leaving it up to him. And then Hook told her a story about the two of them and their time on the Jolly Roger. Apparently, Neal was a natural at sailing and he was also very quick on his feet (which Emma knew very well from their time together). He stayed close to Hook at all times, never bothering with any of the other crew, and the two of them became close quite quickly. When Neal found out about who Hook was to Milah and left the Jolly Roger once and for all, Hook claimed it was like losing a son. And Emma started to see a picture forming of the two of them on the ship together, smiling and laughing, until the truth came out and he left.

"You loved him," she decided and he nodded. "He was family."

"And now I've lost all of the family I've ever known," he admitted. Emma brought her arm up and around him, gently resting his head to rest on her shoulder. She left her hand in his hair and rubbed her thumb along the hairline behind his ear.

"I've been there," she told him. "I grew up without a family. Now I have more family than I ever thought possible. And so do you. This town is your family. My family is your family. I'm your family."

"One day, Swan," he whispered. "One day I will make you my family." The sentiment behind his words shocked her. Surprisingly. She was getting used to him revealing himself and his feeligns to her. But this time, they were worth more, especially after the day they'd had.

"Good," she whispered back, resting her head against his.