A/U Since I'm a ridiculous push-over, we have more Bailey in this chapter but we also have development for the Emma-Neal fiasco. Add in a pinch of family Captain Swan and that's this chapter in a nutshell. As usual, keep the reviews and favourites and follows coming because I love them!

Chapter 38: Means to an End

The black office chair squeaked as Emma leaned back on it, the way it always had. She sighed happily, breathing in the scent of her office; caffeine and that weird yet appealing smell of fresh printing. It was familiar and comforting to be back in her element.

She'd only arrived minutes earlier, all but pushing David out the door. He was hesitant to leave but Emma was determined to get back to her job and everything she knew. Finally alone, she could just absorb the atmosphere before she had to get down to business. There were some files to review on the state of affairs within Storybrooke.

The blonde leaned forward, sighing as she began flicking through the papers on her desk. It was a menial task but anything to get her out of the house she had all but been locked up in for the past few weeks. Henry was safe with Killian back at the apartment; she had no doubts.

They had said something about bringing her dinner to the station and the idea wasn't unwelcoming to her. In fact, she was secretly looking forward to spending time with her son and the pirate. The two of them got along well, better than she would have expected considering Captain Hook was the villain in his fairy-tale. She would never understand their unspoken bond.

The click of the door to the office alerted Emma to someone entering the station and she stood up from her desk. Initially, she assumed it might have been David – come back to assert his role and usher her home where she would rest and stare at four walls all day. Unfortunately though, the saviour wasn't so lucky.

"Em," Neal said, walking towards her with his arms outstretched, an apologetic look creasing his features, "I'm so sorry about yesterday."

His words might have mitigated a reprieve, had it not been for the shit he had stirred. Emma scowled at him, taking a step back as he approached. She took satisfaction in noting the white tape across his bruised nose and the mark on his cheek.

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure you slapped me and told me no one could ever love me. Oh, and you called me every name under the sun. Did I miss anything?" she responded penetratingly. Neal looked down and shook his head solemnly.

"I didn't mean it… I was just angry because I found out about you and… him."

"That doesn't matter; it wasn't your place to get angry. I'm not an object Neal, I don't belong to you," Emma said, watching as he stepped forward again.

"I know, I know but – Em, you aren't seriously going to stick with him? He's a deadbeat and the reason this whole curse even happened. He's not right for you," Neal pleaded, imploring her with his eyes. She simply shook her head in disgust.

"Oh yeah, and you're a stand-up guy. Tell me, Neal, what do you do for a living? What's your job, huh? And since when do you know who's right for me? Don't you think I might have changed since the last time we were together?" she asked incredulously, folding her arms across her chest. He ignored her jibes, shaking his head and persisting.

"Didn't you hear me? He's the reason the curse happened!" Neal exclaimed, "if he had have left Milah alone then Gold would never have become Rumplestiltskin or whatever and none of this would have happened!"

"She left of her own volition!" Emma yelled back, her fingers prickling with unused magic.

"I don't understand… I came back because I wanted to try to save what we had and hell, I wanted to start a family but you – you didn't even give me a shot."

It was the blonde's turn to shake her head now, "What we had. Past tense – I'm sorry Neal but… there was never going to be a 'happy family' and to be honest I don't think Henry wants anything to do with you." His face dropped and for a second she was worried he would become angry again. But he wasn't, his eyes were sad when they met hers.

"Why?" he asked.

"What?"

"Why doesn't he want anything to do with me?"

She paused before answering, "He knows you hit me and… Henry's a big believer in good and that was… that's not what he wants in a father figure."

"But you killed a man and nearly did me in and he still loves you!" Neal said desperately, teetering on the edge of anger.

"Because once the magic took hold I had no control over my actions, you had complete control over what you did," she replied heatedly, stepping forward to emphasize her point. The man in front of her exhaled heavily, stifling the urge to yell. He would never make progress if all he did was scream and shout.

"Neal, I think… I think you should leave. At least for a while, maybe Henry will forgive you but right now he wants nothing to do with you," Emma said, uncharacteristically soft, "you can come back later on."

"And what about you? If I give you time – do you think… would you ever give me another chance?"

She shook her head, "No."

"It's because of him, isn't it? The pirate?" Neal replied in resignation. The blonde was tempted to nod and let him believe that it was the reason behind her refusal. But it wasn't, it never was that simple. Taking a breath, she replied honestly.

"It's not because of him. I'm not the girl you fell in love with, Neal. I haven't been that girl for a very long time and I think maybe you just don't want to see that."

He stayed silent then, looking anywhere but at her. Her eyes searched his face for any register of emotion but there was none – simply an apathetic look that perplexed her more than anything else. His eyes strayed back to her and he shook his head.

"I need to think," Neal said, running his hand through his hair. Emma nodded and watched him as he walked past her towards the door. It was a surprisingly docile action for the man who had just a day ago been willing to use violence against her.

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"…I'm not the girl you fell in love with, Neal. I haven't been that girl for a very long time and I think maybe you just don't want to see that."

As she had said the words, his previously determined mindset faltered and he looked away. He didn't want to look on her face because there was a small part of him urging him towards the truth of her comment. Neal's eyes landed on the window and he was reminded of his own back in New York where it held the dream catcher. The one that this woman had been so awed by at that hotel in what felt like another life.

In that blissfully ignorant life where their only desires were consumed by each other and the thrill of the steal, it was there that his Emma resided. It was the happiest time of his life and he wanted it back. His eyes strayed back to the woman in front of him and her features were suddenly different to what he remembered; the same woman but… different.

He needed a moment.

"I need to think," he muttered, brushing swiftly past her to the door of the station. Neal walked briskly out of the station and started for the docks. He reached it within minutes and sat down with a huff on one of the bench seats lining the quay.

He let his thoughts wander back to Emma and the conundrum that was their situation. Coming to Storybrooke, his intent had been clear and almost too simple – win Emma back and get back to the way things were. Henry's existence had obviously altered the plan but all the same he wanted her back. For over a decade Neal's thoughts had all but been consumed with his girl and the notion of resurrecting their life together.

Recently, more specifically just a couple of minutes ago, something finally started to dawn on him. Something he'd not let himself consider for a moment. While he would love his Emma Swan forever and the time that was theirs in Tallahassee, she didn't exist anymore. The Emma Swan of Storybrooke was right; the woman he loved dissolved a long time ago.

So much should have been obvious at many stages during his stay in this town. Neal's face landed in his hands as he looked back on everything that should have prompted him to the inevitable truth.

From the moment he saw her outside his apartment, there had been something distinctively different about her. Initially, in his oblivious state, the man had attributed it to the walls that obviously resulted from his departure. Even now, he seemed to laugh half-heartedly at his own arrogance. Her attempt to kill him had felt like a silent scream for help – the only thing was he hadn't been the one to answer it. The pirate had – Killian.

And when he'd seen her with that pirate, Neal had credited her resistance to his interference. The way they looked at each other, with silent understanding and unidentifiable affection; it scorned him. And while the saying went "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," the same was true for men. Especially men who weren't thinkers; and Neal was renowned for not being a thinker.

The revelation that she had 'secured the deal' with the other man had pushed him to such an unidentifiable stage of hurt that he'd lashed out. Because that's what people do when they're hurt – they lash out. Never in his life had he wanted to cause anyone more pain than in that moment when his ambition for the past decade slipped through his fingers. And so, words were uttered that never should have been; words that crossed boundaries and made irremovable stains.

Again, Neal laughed almost maniacally at his own stupidity. He sat up, looking at the sky as his thoughts wandered.

Emma Swan was no longer an open, freely-smiling woman with glasses and seemingly permanent red lipstick. Emma Swan was different; fierce and determined and closed-off to everyone but a select few. She never wore dresses and she was quick to reject emotion. More importantly, she wasn't the woman he loved.

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Killian watched the young boy as he ran ahead to the double doors opening to her office. Henry barreled into them, pushing them open and entering the station. The pirate meandered behind, carrying the plastic bag in his hook and swinging it idly as he walked forward. He reached the doors and pushed one open with his hand so he could enter.

The second he entered the large room, his eyes landed immediately on her. She was smiling at her son, who was standing in front of her desk. The boy's mouth was moving rapidly like a motor with no off-switch and Emma nodded the way any good mother does. As he moved towards them, the blonde looked up and her eyes landed on the pirate. Her smile automatically broadened and she turned back to let Henry have her full-attention for the end of his recount.

"…So we decided to get a bunch of random stuff to share," the young boy finished, his eyes rising up to meet Killian's as he approached the desk. Emma stood up and picked the bag up off his hook and deposited it on the desk.

"What? No hello Killian, nice to see you, glad you worked out how to utilise this realm's ridiculous monetary system?" he said sarcastically, earning himself a laugh from both individuals in front of him. The saviour turned around and raised an eyebrow.

"I suspect Henry was the one who actually paid for this because last time you tried to buy something, you tried to swipe a piece of cash where you're meant to put the card."

"Wait, how did you find out about that? You've been at home for the past few weeks! You weren't there when I went to get bread when we ran out… bloody Charming. It was your father wasn't it? Swear to the heavens I'll get him back for that," Killian replied, his ego significantly deflated as he recalled the incident. Emma and Henry laughed again and proceeded pulling the hot plastic containers out of the bag.

"Did you guys just get a bit of everything?" she asked, surveying the numerous steamy packages. The young boy gave her a grave look.

"Were you listening to a thing I said before when I came in? Honestly Mom, if you're going to daydream while I'm talking at least let me know so I don't look stupid," he said. The blonde looked at her son with a raised eyebrow, although amused that he was giving her sass. It was the sort of family situation she never thought she'd experience.

"Just saying…" he said, slightly less confident. Emma ruffled his hair affectionately. She looked down at the desk again, realizing they didn't have any plates.

"Not that I'm disappointed with this spread but where are the plates?" she asked, looking down at the food. Her eyes leveled with the pirate next to her as he smiled.

"Forgot. But we did remember forks and knives, right lad?" Killian said, turning to the young boy who procured two knives and two forks.

Emma raised her eyebrows, "How did you go in math this year, buddy?" Henry looked at the utensils in his hands and smiled apologetically. The pirate leaned closer to Emma, smirking as he spoke.

"I guess you and I will have to share a fork and knife?" he suggested. The blonde looked at him with mock horror.

"I don't know where your mouth has been," she said, feigning disdain. He smiled, using his hand to indicate Henry turn away; an order which the boy succinctly obeyed. Before she could protest, Killian's mouth landed on hers and she smiled against his lips. She returned the kiss and was slightly disappointed when it ended but reminded herself that she would have all the privacy in the world when they returned home.

"Now you know," he said suavely with his lips a centimeter away from hers. She narrowed her eyes playfully and moved around him to take the fork and knife from Henry's hand.

"Is it safe to turn around?" he asked.

"Yes," both adults responded as Emma pulled up another two chairs to the desk, sitting in one and offering the other to Henry. Killian sat in her office chair as they proceeded to eat; the first of many not-so-typical family dinners with a saviour, a pirate and a young boy.

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Bailey walked silently through the night, subconsciously heading for the wharf. Clouds of white mist escaped his mouth as he breathed, the night unseasonably chilly. His eyes were cast downward, unaware of his surroundings – only slightly conscious of the increasingly loud sound of the waves crashing against the docks and the rattle of sails against their masts on boats.

"What are you doing here?" a familiar voice questioned. Bailey looked up, his eyes landing on a man sitting on one of the bench seats littering the quay. He shrugged and sat down next to his friend.

"Thinking… brooding, I guess you would say," he replied. Neal smiled slightly at the use of his own term for his friend's constant state of thought; something he should have tried picking up on over the past few years. Bailey cocked his head to the side as he looked at the man beside him on the seat.

"Why are you down here?" he asked curiously.

Neal looked up at the night sky with a rueful expression and, for the first time since he'd met the man, actually looked wiser than he was. A large cloud of white mist escaped his mouth and drifted up to the sky as he sighed. Bailey waited a minute for his friend to respond.

"I think I might have just had an epiphany," Neal said jokingly, leveling his eyes to meet his friend's.

"What do you mean?"

It was another minute before he responded again, speaking with a mix of regret and sadness.

"I'm not in love with Emma…" he said at length. Bailey stared at his roommate but was not ultimately surprised by the revelation. From the moment he heard his friend talk about the blonde saviour, he knew that his friend was deluding himself with memories of the past. People grow, whether you like it or not, and assuming she would be exactly the same was naïve.

"You don't look surprised," Neal commented, picking up on Bailey's expression. The latter smiled half-heartedly.

"Mate, you wouldn't have listened to me. I've known you for nearly a decade – don't you think I've learned how bloody stubborn you are? And besides… you really believed she would come around, I think you needed to realise she wasn't who you fell in love with on your own," he said.

They both stayed silent for a while, watching the night sky solemnly.

"I'm leaving in the morning," Neal finally announced with his eyes still glued to the stars above him. Bailey stopped staring heavenwards and turned to the man beside him. He waited for an explanation and shook his head when none came.

"No, mate I need you here. I haven't decided whether I'm going to forgive my Dad yet and I can't leave until it's resolved," he said. Neal looked down at his roommate and smiled feebly.

"I'm going but that doesn't mean you have to as well." Bailey shook his head and looked towards the town before turning back to his companion. He sighed heavily.

"I can't just stay here alone… but I can't forgive him yet."

Silence descended on them again as the younger of the two men considered his friend's problem. And then, for once in his life, Neal – the thief, the idiot, the abandoner, the bully, the oblivious, the regretful – gave a decent piece of advice. He grasped his friend by the shoulder, looking him straight in the eye as he spoke.

"Bailey, you only have one father. He's made a lot of really crappy choices but you need to make a decision. Give up the shit and take him as he is or leave… don't let fate make the decision for you," he said.

And then Neal stood up and walked back towards the town. Bailey did not follow him; instead he too had an epiphany.

On a subject unrelated to this fic – have you guys seen the picture that suggests Neal might get marked by the wraith? Thoughts? Oh, and since this fic is coming to an end pretty soon I thought I should announce that I am nearly finished planning a new Captain Swan fic that I will post immediately after this one is completed.