I am still being overwhelmed by your response! Thank you all so much!

This took a bit of an angsty turn, but there is a plan and it'll all be rainbow kisses and unicorn stickers down the road ;)

..:::..

Feel Again

Three

..:::..

It's not like it could ever be simple and she could just turn off her feelings for Neal. Because there's still a part of her, she's willing to admit a very small part, that still loves him. It's that same part of her that feels lost and lonely on this island, the part of herself still encased in a wall so high and so deep that she doubts anyone will break through.

And that scares her.

Because she wants to be free of these feelings, she wants Neal out of her system, she needs the closure, for the hurt to go away. So she tries to start small.

The sword is still slung over her shoulders when she approaches her ex, but she smoothly swings it around to the front of her and off her arm in one movement. "Hey," she says quietly, "Reckon we could have a moment?"

He nods tersely, walking ahead of her into a small clearing close to the camp, but far away enough that they have a little privacy.

She knows he's been feeling somewhat hurt due to her not jumping into his arms when they first reunited and she's probably only made it worse by her more frequent slip ups around Killian of late, but she tries not to think about that as she holds out his sword as a kind of peace offering. "I thought you might like this back."

He looks at the sword curiously, tilting his head as he examines the old markings on it, his crudely engraved initials on the hilt, "Is that…?"

"Yeah. Killian gave it to me when we first got here."

Neal's eyes dart from the sword to her in an instant, searching her for something. She's unsure what, but sees something hurting beyond the surface, "You keep it."

She frowns, uncertain what has gone so wrong in what should be such a simple exchange, "Oh, okay. I just thought…"

But he cuts her off, "Well your instincts must be as off as your 'lie detector' because you were wrong."

And that needlessly rubs her the wrong way. She slings the sword back over her shoulder, the intent to keep it clear, "I was just trying to mend some bridges here, Neal. We need to work together if we're going to get our son back."

He's already walking off by then though, shooting a look over his shoulder, "Well maybe you should talk to your dear Killian about that."

It's only in that moment that Neal reveals his hand, that his anger is built upon pure jealousy, but he storms off before Emma can even have a chance to explain her situation, leaving her alone with a sword that just keeps reminding her of the past.

:::

She doesn't really get angry about everything that's happened that day until much later in the evening. The day time brings with it duties and a busy sort of urgency to get as much done before night strikes again so she doesn't really have a moment to mull over Neal's actions until they've finished up dinner and are getting ready to sleep.

Killian intercepts Emma on the way back from using their 'bathroom', the two of them remaining hidden behind the line of trees on the outskirts of the camp.

"Swan," he beckons, softly.

She turns her head and sees him sitting in the shadows, leg perched on a boulder, his dark leather shining in the moonlight. She really cannot get used to the way her breathing halts when he shocks her with his presence, "What are you doing over here?"

Everyone else is milling about the campsite, setting up their makeshift beds, "Waiting for you."

She cocks her head at him, breathing a heavy sigh, "Hook, listen…"

But he cuts her off, "Emma, while I am appreciative that we've put ourselves in a complicated situation of intimacy, I wish to discuss a matter with you that seems to be entirely uncomplicated to me."

"And that is?" she asks, genuinely curious about how this pirate keeps surprising her.

He stands up, stepping the short distance to her and tilting her chin up with his hook, "You're upset. Why?"

She closes her eyes, just for a moment, to get her bearings. Because his stare is so intense and so pure that it makes her head spin. How could he possibly know? She thought she had been covering it so well.

"It's actually more complicated than you think," she eventually says, finally opening her eyes.

"Neal?" he questions, again cutting deep through any barrier she could even attempt to put up.

Deciding to give him something for making it this far with her, she tells him a little of what's been on her mind, "He hurt me a long time ago and now it feels like no time has passed. Like the part of me that healed has just been ripped open again."

"And it's as though he's gotten away with it purely because there has been a great amount of time between when he wronged you and now?" he finishes for her, questioning eyes meeting hers once more before she looks away sharply, swinging her neck down and accidentally cutting her chin against the point of his hook. "Swan!" he hisses, immediately reaching out with his hand to try and stem the trickle of blood making its way down her throat.

She pulls away from his touch though, avoiding eye contact and holding her own fingers to the graze, "It's fine. I just…goodnight Hook."

"Emma, come lass. Tell me what has you on edge."

And purely because it's him and he is yet to disappoint her and she feels like she owes him this much, she stops and answers him, "Everyone seems to know what I'm going to say next when it comes to Neal. Everyone can judge his character and just know him. But he still shocks me with how hurtful he can be." She steps closer to the pirate again, "How is it that I don't even know the man who I've been crying over for eleven years?"

And he realises she's not asking for effect. She wants answers. She craves them. Craves closure, "Oh Emma."

But she holds up a hand, "Don't pity me. I'll work it out."

And with that she turns back towards the camp, throwing another, "Goodnight," over her shoulder.

:::

Emma doesn't sleep that night, the sound of children crying cutting into her like razor blades. Her fingers clutch at Neal's sword, her eyes wide open and searching the dark expanse in front of her for the boy she knows will come and see her tonight.

It's always been a game between the two of them, Pan and her. Spiralling in this sick version of events that he thinks is fun. And tonight she is feeling just about as lost as possible, so she knows he'll be there to seek her out, try and get her to come to his dark side, to forget family and live life in his 'free' little world.

There's a whisper of a breeze in the trees and then he's there, his dark silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky.

She goes to him, softly stepping further away from the campsite until it's just them. King of the Lost Boys and his only Lost Girl.

"Oh I can feel it," he begins, "Can you feel it?"

She shrugs, not wanting to give anything away, even by accident. This is about getting as much information as possible while still making Pan believe he has the upper hand, "Feel what?"

His lips quirk in a devilish smile, "The ache." He doesn't wait for her to answer, instead circling her with confident steps, "The air is thick with the same tension your boy is feeling."

She doesn't even wait for him to finish, "Where's Henry?"

But he seems disappointed by that, "Oh, Emma. You know where he is." She blinks and he appears in front of her, face inches from hers, "He's with me. Just as you can be." He reaches out a slender finger and runs it over the cut on the underside of her chin, "Hmm. You'll find him soon, saviour. But it will be too late."

And before Emma can get another word in, her head tilts forward and he is gone.

She feels her chest tighten with anxiety. This is all too much; she can't control her feelings out here and the longer she's trying to get herself under control, the longer she has to spend away from Henry.

She knows what Pan wants; he needs her beaten and bruised, her heart heavy and lonely. When she is broken she'll be reunited with her son.

And so, she makes her way back to the cushion of leaves she's made for herself and gets to work, staring at each sleeping face of her companions and mentally cataloguing everything she can't stand about them, building her walls up higher and deeper than they've ever been before, separating herself from everyone and everything.

Pan wants a Lost Girl and a Lost Girl he shall have.

:::

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