So umm all I'll say right now is I love writing angst :) As per usual will update as soon as I can :) Thanks for reading :)

Emma sat on the edge of the freshly-made bed in her room at the inn and sighed. Hook had said he'd meet her here but she'd been waiting for a while now. She'd already had dinner at Granny's – keeping her eye on the window in case to see his black-silhouetted figure heading in her direction. Having grown tired of drinking her bottomless cup of coffee, she had given up and retreated back to the inn. When she opened the door she had hoped to see him here waiting for her – only to find the room dark, cold and empty.

She pulled out her phone - something to play with to pass the time. She'd forgotten she'd put it on silent after talking to Henry this morning. 3 missed calls and 1 new message – all from Mary-Margaret. Very mom-like thought Emma as she tapped her phone and read the message.

Emma where are you? Heard about Milah. Hope you're OK. Call me.

News certainly travels fast in Storybrooke. Emma wondered how Mary-Margaret had found out. With a sigh she considered calling her mother back, but she didn't really want to deal with her unrelenting optimism and never-ending pep-talks about hope and true love. She also knew there would be a discreet, little 'told you so' hidden somewhere in her tone – a subtle dig about Hook being no good for her. She wasn't in the mood to hear it, so opted to text her back instead.

I'm fine. Staying at Granny's again tonight. Will check-in tomorrow.

Emma knew the vague response would drive Mary-Margaret mad, and expected another barrage of incoming text messages at any moment, but she left her phone on silent and shoved it back in her pocket. Looking around the room Emma's eyes fixed on Hook's duffel bag, which still remained in the corner where he'd left it. Her inquisitive nature and penchant for snooping got the better of her. She picked up his bag and peered inside.

On top was a neatly-folded pile of his dirty clothes – which explained the musky odour – like a sports bag with a bit of rum spillage thrown in for good measure. Despite the stench she caressed the very tall collar of his shirt between her thumb and finger and smiled. She really did love his clothes – she'd loved taking them off him even more.

Rummaging through the rest of his satchel she found a folded-up straight razor, a sharpening stone, remnants of soap in a small metal container, and pair of scissors and a hair brush. Hook really was an impeccably groomed pirate. Emma was about to put the bag back when something caught her eye. In a side pocket a hint of folded parchment was exposed. She reached in tentatively to retrieve it. It was clearly very old. It was flimsy and faded with rough edges and an abundance of wrinkles and creases. Emma carefully unfolded it, worried it might tear or fall apart in her fingers if she so much as breathed on it.

Emma's furrowed brow turned to surprise as she unveiled a hand-drawn portrait of Milah. Hook kept this with him? After all this time? She studied it for some time, trying not to over-think it. Husbands keep photos of their wives when they die right? Surely this is no different? It weighed heavy on Emma's heart, that after all their time apart Hook would still want to keep Milah near, even if only in picture form.

Jealousy tore at her insides as she folded the portrait back up and returned the bag and its contents to where she found it. Hook didn't need Milah's picture any more. She was alive again, and they were currently together, on his ship, reconciling after a few hundred years apart.

As she looked at the clock Emma was getting sick of waiting– in fact she was getting pissed.

He's not coming, she thought. He's decided to stay with her. He's not even a man enough to come and break it off with me before shacking back up with his pirate wife. Might as well just pack up and head home. She growled and picked up her backpack and headed for the door.

"Emma?" There was a knock at the door and a muffled voice coming from the other side. "It's Neal. You in there?"

She walked over and held open the door. "What?" she greeted him in a less-than-polite tone..

Neal stretched his neck and looked over Emma's shoulder, peering into the room. "No Hook?" he asked tentatively.

"No, definitely no Hook," she replied shortly.

"So, uh, apparently my mother is back." Neal said, looking somewhat indifferent.

"Uh-huh." Emma didn't really feel like having company, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk about Milah.

"Yeah, my father called and told me." Neal added.

"And?" She asked, hoping to speed up their awkward conversation in the doorway.

"And... I thought you could use a drink." He raised a whiskey bottle in one hand, two stacked glasses in the other and a hopeful expression on his face.

"Don't want to talk." Emma sighed then glanced at the whiskey bottle. "But could use a drink." She opened the door wider and invited him in.

Neal handed the glasses to Emma and unscrewed the top of the whiskey bottle before pouring her a generous serve. "After talking to my Pops I got the impression that you might be on your own and in need of someone to talk to. Went by your house, spoke to Mary-Margaret then figured you might still be here."

So that's how Mary-Margaret found out, thought Emma. "Yep, here I am, alone."

Neal took the other glass and poured himself a shot. "I just dropped Henry back at Regina's. We spent the afternoon looking at houses and apartments."

Emma took a deep breath and tried to relax. "So you're going to stay in Storybrooke permanently?" She sat back down on the edge of the bed and put the glass to her lips.

Neal took a seat beside her. "Well, it doesn't look like we're going back to The Enchanted Forest any time soon, and my family is here. So yeah, I thought I'd better find a place of my own."

"I think I'll be house-hunting myself pretty soon. I have a feeling I'm going to have a sibling before too long, and it's already incredibly crowded at Mary-Margaret's."

"You could always move in with me," he suggested reluctantly.

"Neal... c'mon." Emma complained.

"In a third bedroom of course," Neal added with a smile. "It might be nice for Henry to have his parents under one roof."

"Wow, you going to invite Regina to move in too?" Emma suggested sarcastically.

"Oh God no. Could you imagine it? She'd likely turn me into a frog the second I stole the TV remote."

Emma laughed and rolled her eyes but appreciated the distraction. "Look, Neal, I've been meaning to say this for a while now. I'm sorry. I really should have told you about Henry."

"It's fine Emma. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little pissed you didn't tell me I was a father, but the past is the past. I'm just happy to be in his life now."

There was a moment of silence between the two of them as they both sipped their whiskey and stared at the floor. "So, uh, did Gold tell you why he brought your Mom back?" asked Emma finally.

"Who knows why he does anything," Neal asked rhetorically.

"Come on Neal, he must have told you something."

"He just muttered about doing the right thing. I don't know." Neal hesitated. "He wouldn't say." There was a glimmer in his eyes that told Emma he wasn't being entirely honest.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing! I swear." He lied again, avoiding eye-contact.

"Neal!"

"Seriously Emma I know better than to lie to you." He was saved by a sudden knock at the door before it swung open.

Hook strode in with wide-eyed surprise seeing the two of them together. "Well you don't waste any bloody time do you Baelfire? A man turns his back for one minute..."

Neal downed the remainder of his whiskey and stood up, still holding the bottle in his other hand. "I was just leaving."

"Bloody right you were." Hook held the door open.

Neal pushed his shoulders back and strutted over to Hook. "Hey Hook, how's my Mom?"

"She-"

"On second thoughts, you know what?" Neal said, cutting off the pirate while giving him a cold stare. "I don't give a damn." He then turned to Emma and smiled. "Emma if you need anything, I'm at the end of the hall, last room on the right."

Hook stepped over in to Neal's line of sight, blocking Emma from view. "She won't be needing anything from you, Mate."

"See you later Emma," said Neal over his shoulder as he exited the room.

"Bye Neal," she called out quickly before Hook slammed the door behind him.

"What was he doing here? In our room?" Hook was thumbing the rings on his right hand nervously and squinting at her suspiciously.

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Like it matters to you any more."

"What's that supposed to mean exactly?"

"It means you've been gone all afternoon and most of the evening," Emma grumbled. "I figured you had decided to stay with her."

Hook scoffed and shook his head repeatedly. "Oh how comforting that is, to find out all you need is a few bloody hours to forget me and go rushing back to Baelfire."

"I didn't go to Neal. We were just talking."

"Well you looked pretty bloody cosy to me."

"Oh yeah, as cosy and you and Milah have been on your god-damn ship." Emma threw her arm in the general direction of the docks.

Hook responded slowly and carefully. "Nothing has happened between Milah and I."

It was Emma's turn to scoff as she folded her arms across her chest. "Don't bullshit me Hook. I saw the way you looked at her when she came out from your quarters."

"Be fair, Emma!" Hook threw his arms up in the arm. "How do you think I felt watching you reunite with Neal back in that Echo Cave on Neverland? To see the look on your face – to see you wrap your arms around him after finding him still alive? It broke my bloody heart Love."

Emma's eyes widened as her face turned red with anger. "So is that what this is about? You're trying to get back at me?"

"No! I told you - I didn't plan this. I didn't bring her back!"

"But now that she is back? What are you going to do?"

"I've no bleedin' clue!" Hook tugged at his hair in frustration. "I cannot simply turn my back on her. She's distraught Love. I can't just leave her alone. It's not honourable to leave a damsel in distress, especially not when she and I once shared so much."

"Wow, so that's what does it for you huh Hook? A damsel?" Emma laughed sarcastically. "Want me to wave my arms and in the air and cry for help like a defenceless little girl?" She huffed loudly. "If that's what you want then maybe you should stay with Milah."

"You know that's not what I meant!" growled Hook as he clenched his fist as his side. "Why must you be so cursedly infuriating?"

Emma ground her teeth as she fought back to tears in her eyes that were threatening to spill over. Her emotional defence mechanisms were going into overdrive. "This is me Hook. This is who I am. If you don't like it then there's the damn door."

Hook sighed and stared at his feet. "I didn't come here to fight, Emma," he said remorsefully. "All we've ever done is bloody fight."

"Then why did you come back?" Emma asked bitterly - afraid he'd give an answer she didn't want to hear.

"To talk, Love."

Emma's heart sank. Hook wasn't the type to talk. Every fibre of her being told her he'd come back to say he was choosing Milah - she didn't want to hear it. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and tried to keep a straight face. "We have nothing to talk about."

Hook's face went blank as he reached up to tug nervously at his chin. He took a deep breath before looking up to meet her stoic expression. "So that's it then?" His voice trembled and croaked. "You really have nothing to say to me? Nothing at all?"

Emma looked back at him but couldn't see the pleading in his eyes - the desperation and longing - the simple request for her to just say that she loved him. All Emma saw was the pirate who was about to break her heart. "No," she replied coldly. "I have nothing to say."

Hook stared at the ground again as he hovered in the middle of the room. With his thumb hooked through his belt loop he exhaled loudly through pursed lips. "Best I be on my way then," he said before picking up his satchel, throwing it over his shoulder and exiting the room without looking back.

Emma was panting with rage and grief while fighting the urge to scream and sob all at once. No, screw him, he doesn't get to make me feel this way. She forced herself to calm down – breathing in, breathing out, staring at her hand until it stopped shaking.

In the corner of her eye Emma spotted her empty whiskey glass and licked her lips as her mouth watered. Without giving it a second thought she swooped up the glass and headed out of her room, down the hall to the last room on the right, and knocked.

"Emma?" Neal asked with a surprised tone as he opened the door.

"I need a drink."

Neal smiled, stepped back and welcomed her into his room.