Summary: Emma chooses Henry's happiness and picks Neal, on her bachelorette party she gets tipsy, and Killian, who has secretly decided to leave town on the day of Emma's wedding, is there.

A/N: I combined two different tumblr prompts for this. Angsty. Smutty. Angsty smut, kinda rough at times. Yeah. Also, I'm not sure about how much sense this makes, but well.

"To Emma! Or should I say the future Mrs. Cassidy? Cheers!" Ruby exclaimed, raising her glass.

Belle, Snow, Ashley and even Regina joined her, expressing her congratulations and drinking to her health and happiness in the new stage of her life that was going to start as from the following day. Emma's stomach twisted.

Alcohol.

She needed more alcohol.

Everything had happened too fast, her mind had been hazy, but now, with Ruby's toast, it felt real. Too real. In some corner of her mind she knew what she had agreed to, but the full implications of it hadn't actually dawned on her until now.

She was going to marry Neal. As in "husband and wife". As in bonded together for eternity.

She emptied her glass of whiskey in one long gulp.

A week before

"Hey guys," Emma greeted as she took a seat next to Henry and across from Neal in the booth. They'd only been back from Neverland for five days, and Henry, who had been distant and quiet the whole time, had insisted on his parents having breakfast with him, so she could only agree. She would do anything to get back the happy little guy that he used to be before his abduction to the cursed island.

"Hey, mom," he said with a small smile. "Here, we ordered hot cocoa and cinnamon for you." He passed her the steamy mug.

"Oh, thanks," she said, taking a sip of it and noticing that Neal was looking at her in a weird way. Too intently at times, then he seemed to notice and divert his eyes to anywhere but her, and then all of it again.

"It's nice, you know," Henry commented offhandedly after a few minutes, while eating his bun. "The three of us being together. I like it."

"Kid..." Emma started.

"Henry's right," Neal said, interrupting her. "It's nice. We are a family, the three of us. We should be together, like this, all the time."

"What-"

"I know I screwed up big time in the past, Emma, but I want to make up for it. I really do. I want to make it right this time, for Henry, and for us."

He moved quickly and before she noticed, he was on his knee in front of her, holding out an opened suede box showing a sparking ring. No, no, this isn't happening. This is just a dream, this is-

"Marry me, Emma?"

She froze, unable to think, unable to speak. Instantly she turned to her son. He was pleading with his eyes, looking at her with such hope, and happiness. He really wanted his mom and dad together. It was what would make him happier; Emma saw it in his eyes.

A good parent must do anything possible to make their child happy.

"Okay," she whispered, still stunned, and she barely registered the roar of screams and applause from everyone at Granny's who had been looking closely at the scene. She felt both Henry and Neal embrace her, and she lamely wrapped her arms around them both, eyes lost in the distance, catching the sight of the twirl of a long leather jacket a second before its wearer left the diner through the back door.

"Emma, are you alright, sweetheart?" Snow asked, concerned.

The blonde shook her head to erase the memory she had been lost in.

"Yeah," she answered weakly.

"Honey," her mother started, with her best Don't-pull-shit-on-me-I-know-you-better-than-anyone tone. "I know that this is going on way too fast, and it's normal to have second thoughts and doubts, especially the night before."

"I'm okay," Emma said again like an automaton. She had been on autopilot ever since Neal had slipped the ring on her finger: unable and unwilling to show her emotions, to let herself feel her emotions. She knew that if she did, this whole thing would go down the drain. She couldn't do that now, not to Neal, not to Henry.

What about what you're doing to Killian?

Thoughts like that were exactly why she had closed herself off like never before.

Snow placed a warm hand on hers and squeezed lovingly. "Just make sure you're doing this for the right reasons."

"I'm doing this for Henry, and that is the best reason." She suddenly got up and muttered some lame excuse before walking as steadily as possible to the bar. She knew that if she kept drinking she would be hung over during the ceremony the next day (oh, God, the ceremony), but she needed it. She needed oblivion. She needed to lose herself one last time before forcing herself to give up her chance for real love –because, let's face it, she was pretty damn sure Neal wasn't it for her- for her son. She needed...

She collapsed against a warm and solid body, and an arm instantly wrapped around her waist to steady her. She looked up and saw exactly what she need and didn't need right now.

Killian's blue eyes went from surprised to tender to hurt to cold in a fraction of a second, but she saw the changing emotions as clear as day. His arm dropped her waist and she felt strangely cold and disappointed with the lack of touch.

"Swan," he said, his voice low and capable of icing her blood. "I believe congratulations are in order for the happy bride-to-be."

"Hook, don't," she pleaded. She couldn't take it coming from him of all people.

"What is it? Am I hurting your feelings with my sincere speech?" his voice dripped bitterness. "Forgive me, lass, but I believe it's only fair. Or are you having cold feet? We both know that you don't love Neal, that you don't want to marry him," he said, not taking his eyes off her, silently challenging her to prove him wrong or agree with him. He was right, of course he was. He always knew her so well.

Why make it harder and admit the truth when she could keep pretending?

"I'm not having cold feet," she said as determined as she could.

Hook barked out a mirthless laugh and shook his head. "Why are you taking the easy way out and settling with someone who makes you unhappy? Why?"

"Because it's what Henry wants!" she said, raising her voice, finally letting the truth out. "Henry wants nothing more than his parents together. After all he's been through I owe it to him to give it a chance."

Hook was silent for a long time, his eyes impossible to decipher for once. "Your intentions are noble, no doubt about that. Yet, have you asked yourself if it is worth it? What good does it make it to the lad to have his parents together if they are not happy about it?"

Damn him. Damn him to the deepest pit of hell.

"Henry deserves a chance," Emma repeated, perfectly aware that she was not answering his questions.

So was he.

"Then I believe this is farewell, Princess," he said, with a deep, mocking bow.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving at the crack of dawn," he informed, looking over her shoulder.

"Leaving? Leaving where?"

He shrugged, his expression the opposite of the fearless and determined pirate captain she knew so much and liked so much. "I know not. Wherever the winds take me. All I know is that I cannot see you doing what you are going to do."

Panic rushed through her entire being. The thought of the Jolly Roger losing herself in the horizon, of not seeing him anymore was like a stab to her chest, knocking the air out of her.

"No," she said frantically, "no, don't leave. Please."

"Don't marry Neal," he countered, his blue eyes softer and more vulnerable than she had ever seen him. Even more than when he confessed he loved her. "Please, Emma, don't marry him."

"I have to," she said shakily, struggling to get the words out of her, although they left such a bitter aftertaste in her tongue.

For a second, Hook let her see the pain in him before he narrowed her eyes at her and clenched his jaw. "Then allow me to give you a wedding present," he said, suddenly taking her by the wrist and pulling her through the crowds, out of the Rabbit Hole, into a dark and empty alley not far away. He pushed her against the wall and pressed his body to hers, trapping her. The heat emanating from him and the fact that they were out in the open and someone could catch her made her mind more blurry than all the booze she had drunk.

His mouth landed on hers, hard, demanding, forcing hers to open as his tongue thrust into almost violently. Her arms locked around his neck for support as his only hand fisted in her hair and pulled sharply, his hook tracing her leg and pulling it to wrap it around his waist so that she could feel the hardening bulge in his pants.

She moaned into his mouth, and he grunted, grinding against her, creating friction that almost made Emma lose herself completely.

This was totally insane, full of desperation, lust. It was wrong.

It was right.

He invaded her senses. There was no air, no, nothing else but his scent, his taste on her mouth, the feel of him so warm and hard and perfect against her, the way his hand left her hair and travelled down her body, reaching its destination, pulling up the hem of her short red dress as he started sucking the hollow of her collarbone and licking the skin of her breasts that her cleavage exposed, and his rough fingertips brushed her oversensitive sex, making moan and writhe under his touch as he started circling her clit fast and rough.

"Oh, so wet already, sweetheart," he purred, slipping a finger between her folds. "Good. I want you to remember this," he punctuated the last word by curling his finger inside her and biting her earlobe, "I want you to think about this when you are with him, I want you to have to bite your lip to prevent from screaming my name when he takes you."

Without previous notice, he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around him as he hastily undid his trousers just enough to sink his pulsing length in her. Her lips parted in a silent scream at the delicious invasion and her fingers twisted in his hair. He didn't leave her much time to adjust, but set an almost brutal pace, slamming into her and out, in and out, stretching her to the point where pain and pleasure were blended together and Emma had never felt so fucking good before.

"Do you like this, love?" he murmured before licking her neck, causing her breath to hitch and a soft mewl leave her throat. "Do you like me fucking you against the wall? My cock deep inside you?"

"Yes," she rasped in between quiet moans. "Yes, oh...fuck...yes...Hook..."

At that, he paused and then slammed into her particularly hard, her toes curled and dug against his ass. "I'm Killian, love." He rasped.

"Killian..."she moaned, and then she was there, her entire body shaking with her orgasm as she held to him for dear life. He followed a few thrusts later, spilling inside her and biting her shoulder to silence a moan.

Eventually, she came down from her high and unwrapped her legs from around him. He helped set her to her feet, but didn't let go of her. She buried her face in his chest as the realization of that she had just done sank in.

Killian. Killian was what she needed. She was sure about it more than ever. Him with her, him inside her –because now she knew how he felt, now she didn't have to fantasize about him anymore- that was it for her. The mere thought of not experiencing it ever again filled her with dread and sadness.

"Take me to the ship," she whispered against his chest. She didn't care that her mother and other women were waiting for her inside, probably wondering where she went or even looking for her, she didn't care that she was supposed to be married in less than twenty-four hours.

"Lass?" he asked, uncertain, while caressing her hair lovingly.

She pulled away just enough to lock eyes with him. "Killian. Take me to the ship."

He nodded and took her hand in his warm, bigger one, and together they walked silently to the Jolly. Luckily, it was a short walk from the bar to the harbor and the streets were empty.

Once they were inside his cabin, Emma launched forward and kissed him, pouring all her feelings in the gesture. She marched forward until he fell back on the bed and she landed on top of him.

"I wish I could just go away with you," she whispered against his lips as she unbuttoned his shirt and scratched her nails on the hair of his lean chest.

"You don't have to do it, Emma. You and him don't have to be married to be a family for Henry," he said, rubbing her back reassuringly.

She looked up and stared at his eyes for a long time, drowning in the sky-blue depths. "I know," she replied, and finally not being afraid to acknowledge it felt purifying.

She felt free.

She spread kisses all over his chest, his neck, his face. With a grunt, he rolled them over so that he was on top of her, and their dance started again; slower this time but just as hot and passionate as before, bodies moving in unison and souls connecting. Emma allowed herself to feel everything that she had been restraining, and it felt almost overwhelming. And when she jumped off the edge, she took him with her. And they stayed in each other's arms well after their breathing and heartbeats evened.

"I'm sorry," she said, caressing him. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm so, so sorry."

"Are you still marrying him?"

Or are you staying with me?

He didn't say it, but she heard it anyway.

Emma didn't answer for a long time, until she lifted Killian's chin with her finger and smiled for the first time in a week.

"I think once I explain everything, they'll understand," she said, taking off Neal's engagement ring and leaving it aside.