"You slut!" Hook said for the fourth time since they had left the diner.

He was sitting in the back of Rumple and Belle's car, both of them utterly silent as they drove back to the house for the reception. Somehow, between the stunned whispers and gasps, they had reached the agreement to go on with the day as planned; if nothing else, to allow the party to distract them all—particularly Neal and Regina—from the bombshell that had been dropped at Granny's. Belle had suggested skipping cocktails, and instead taking the couple hours before the reception to talk, but Regina had shook her head instantly with a firm, "No." She needed alcohol, and she needed it now.

Being the gentleman he was, Hook had offered her a sip from his flask. Regina had declined with a half-hearted quip about some contagious disease she'd get. Ruby immediately ducked under the counter and returned with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

"Here, guys," she said quietly, handing the glasses to Neal and Regina. "Take your medicine."

They were thorough patients: they took three shots each before they left the diner. Rumple had snagged one, too, but his face was still bloodless as they piled into the car and started driving back to the house.

Hook was, personally, delighted with this turn of events. Everything made sense now: why Neal didn't find Regina incredibly sexy, as any normal person should; why the two of them had clicked so quickly, even though they were practically opposites; why there was always that strange tension between Regina and Rumple…

And of course, he also got a kick out of Rumple's humiliation. He didn't hate the man nearly as much as he used to, but he wasn't going to pretend that he still didn't smile maliciously at Rumple's distress.

Belle was a different story. She had been very quiet, even though she didn't seem extremely upset: Hook had heard her telling Rumple that it was okay, that she knew he was with Cora long before he met her, and there was nothing to apologize for. Hook honestly felt she meant every word, and so did Rumple; still, it was quite a lot to swallow, especially on a day that was supposed to be dedicated to their marriage.

As they pulled up to house, Hook twisted in his seat, squinting through the window to watch David's car drive in behind them, followed closely by Regina's. "You better go, slut," he said to Rumple. "They'll need their drinks as soon as they get in the house."

"Go on, Rumple," Belle said, attempting to smile at him. "I'm right behind you."

Rumple looked at her worriedly. "Belle, I'm sorry—"

"Hey," she said gently, taking his hand. "It's fine. Really. Just a bit of a shock." She smiled weakly. "I just need a few minutes, okay?"

Rumple nodded, giving her hand a squeeze, before getting out of the car. Belle waited a few minutes, watching as he walked up to the door with Neal and Regina hurrying behind him. Hook waited for her to get out of the car, figuring he should stay as long as she needed him.

"Need some help, love?" he asked after she'd held onto the door handle for a full minute.

"Yeah," she said absently.

He got out of the car, and opened her door, offering his hand to help her up. Belle slowly stood up, letting Hook close the door behind her.

He peered down at her. "You sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," she sighed. "Just…" She flopped a hand. "Just."

"Well, I've been told I give magical hugs," he lied. "Need one?"

Belle stared off into space before she nodded slowly, and leaned her head against him. "Yep."

He wrapped his good arm around her, thinking it would only depress her more if he accidentally stabbed her with the hook, and rested his chin on her head. "You'll be fine," he said reassuringly. "Just think of poor Regina, what she has to go through. She just found out Rumplestiltskin is her father." He shuddered. "The horror."

Belle gave an unwilling laugh. "Be nice."

"I'm being very nice. I'm giving you a magical hug," he said matter-of-factly. "And then I have to give Neal a magical hug…and then Regina…I can think of a few other things I'd like to—"

"And the magic is gone," Belle sighed, pulling away. She looked up at him, smiling fondly as she patted his arm. "You're such a little man-whore."

"That I am, love. That I am."

Belle gave him a parting smile and started up the drive to the house, allowing him to hang back and wait for Ruby, who had pulled up moments after Robin. Hook turned, raising an eyebrow as he waited for her to finish checking her reflection in the mirror before getting out of the car and hurrying over to him as fast as her heels permitted.

"You are so vain," he said as she came up to him, shaking his head. Ruby snorted derisively.

"You think I don't see you check your reflection in your silverware?" she said as they headed toward the house. "Or the window?"

"I just… hoped you didn't."

Ruby twisted her head around, frowning as she noted how Emma and Robin were lagging behind. "What is it with those two? What are they, girlfriends?"

Hook followed her gaze. "Maybe," he mused, then shook his head. "Don't worry about it, love. We should get inside, before everyone else arrives and there's a line for the drinks."

"I think you might be an alcoholic," Ruby said as they quickened their pace.

Neal and Regina were sitting numbly at a table, not even seeing the streamers and banners hanging from the railings and across the walls. More and more people had started to filter in, livening up the place, but the two of them sat as if nothing else in the world existed.

"I think I should go over there," Hook muttered to Ruby. She nodded, handing him another two shots for Neal and Regina. Hook looked down at them, disappointed there wasn't a third. "Oi," he said softly, "how about a little liquid courage for Hook?"

"You do know how weird it is when you refer to yourself in third person, don't you?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, you can't even carry a third one—you've got one hand."

He responded by opening his mouth, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Ruby scoffed, putting her hands on her hips.

"I am not pouring a shot into your mouth. You're already lazy enough, as it is."

"Ruby…" he whined.

"Go," she said, giving him a light push. "Your friends need you."

Hook grumbled to himself, waiting until he was hidden enough by the growing crowd to down both shots, and drop the glasses in a potted plant. Neal and Regina would have to deal with their problems without alcohol, he decided. It simply wasn't a healthy coping mechanism.

He pushed past a few more people before he could make his way to Neal and Regina's table. "Well!" he said brightly, throwing an arm around each of them as he knelt down. "Who needs a magical hug?"

"I'd like a magical hug," Neal said dully, raising his hand.

"If you try to hug me, I will rip out your heart and feed it to you," Regina hissed.

Hook blinked, then slowly removed his arm from her shoulder. "Okay, then," he said, wrapping it around Neal instead. "Just a magical hug for Neal."

After Neal had assured him he had been sufficiently hugged, Hook released him, ruffling his hair for good measure. He smiled when Neal made an annoyed sound and swatted his hand away; at least Neal was getting back to his old self. Hook looked around for a chair, swiping the one Archie had been sitting in when he stood up to get a glass of lemonade.

"So," Hook said, scooting his chair between them. "I just stole this chair from Archie— I think that qualifies me enough to be a stand-in therapist, don't you?"

"No," they said together. Hook pretended not to hear them.

"Excellent! I think so, too. So, come on, then—" he waved his hand, prodding them to talk—"Dr. Jones is ready to listen."

"Stop referring to yourself in third person!" Regina snapped.

"Okay," Hook frowned thoughtfully, nodding. "Regina, you seem to be experiencing a lot of anger. Do you want to talk about that?"

She slammed her hands on the table. "Do you want me to kill you?"

"I'm sorry, love, I stopped listening after, 'Do you want me?'Because the answer is—" he cleared his throat—"hell yes."

"Hey," Neal said tensely. "Don't talk about my…sister like that."

"Don't call me that."

"Well, you are!" he flared up. "Whether you like it or not, Regina—"

"I like it not."

"—this is REAL." Neal glared around the room, putting his head in his hand. "And it's insane."

"Excuse me, Neal," Hook frowned, holding up his hand. "But I believe only one of us is qualified to make that assessment here."

Neal closed his eyes, speaking through clenched teeth."Hook—"

"Dr. Jones, actually—"

"—shut up."

Hook closed his mouth, lowering his eyes to the table. For a few minutes, they sat in silence: Neal and Regina glared in opposite direction, while Hook examined his rings.

"I'm sure Neal will be a great brother," he remarked. "And Neal, Regina will be a… anyways, Neal will be a great brother."

"I'm running out of graphically violent threats," Regina said warningly. "Soon, I'm going to be forced to start demonstrating them."

Hook fell silent, tracing the table cloth pattern with his finger.

"You know, Regina," he said quietly. "You're luckier than you realize."

"Am I?"she snarled.

"Yes," he said flatly. "I'd give anything to find out I had another brother out there."

Neal sucked in a breath; Regina turned her head to look at Hook slowly, narrowing her eyes to a glare. "Oh…" she breathed, pointing at him. "You did not just play the dead-brother-card."

Hook looked back at her, raising his eyebrows. "I'm just saying, you could be off a lot worse," he said, shrugging.

"Well, what do you say to that?" Regina exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "I mean, God! Anything I say now is going to sound—!" She pounded the table. "Damn it, Hook!"

"Well, now you've got nothing to be miserable about!" he said brightly, feeling cocky enough to chuck her under the chin. Her eyes widened furiously, but he barely gave her enough time to react before he stood up, beaming down at them both. "I pronounce you—cured!"

"Doesn't work like that, bro," Neal called after him. Hook turned around, walking backwards for a moment, grinning.

"Oh, Neal."

Neal smiled faintly. "Oh, Killy."

By the time the reception started, everyone was buzzed enough that the "oh, my God, Neal and Regina are siblings" scandal could be put on hold as the best party since Halloween started up.

Dinner was served as a buffet, for people to go and visit at their leisure between dancing and drinking. Belle had indeed booked the Lost Boys, who were now playing an upbeat version of the Turtles' "Happy Together". The tables were scooted around the edge of the ballroom so people had room to dance as crazily as their level of drunkenness dictated.

Emma hovered by the bar, sipping whatever fruity concoction David had ordered for her (it tasted vaguely strawberry). She wasn't quite drunk, but she was pleasantly "floaty".

"Emma!" Hook came staggering toward her, a wide grin on his face. His jacket had been discarded, and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck. He leaned against the counter for support, laughing at absolutely nothing.

"Hey, buddy," she smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Doing all right?"

"Doing fantastic!" he said loudly, swaying dangerously. "God, I love weddings!"

Emma looked around at the crowd, her eyes finding Regina dancing with Robin (holding a drink in her other hand); Belle was giggling as Rumple tried to persuade her to come out onto floor and dance with him; Henry was in the corner, playing around on his phone (teenagers, she thought, rolling her eyes); and Neal was… She frowned. Where was Neal?

"Where's Neal?" she asked Hook. He swallowed the drink he'd just gulped, exhaling loudly as he slammed the glass down.

"Sorry?" he said, leaning closer to hear her.

"I said, where's Neal?" she repeated louder.

"I don't know! I love that beautiful bastard, where is he?" Hook swiveled his head around, beaming. "OI, NEAL!" he shouted. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Here," a muffled voice said from Emma's other side. They turned to look at Neal, who was slumped over the counter, an empty glass in his hand.

"You don't look well, mate!" Hook said delightedly. "C'mere, I want to give you a magical hug!"

"No," Neal said, firmly, but groggily. "No more magical hugs."

"Let me hug you!" Hook staggered toward him holding out his arms, but Neal waved him off.

"Go away, I'm not drunk enough to deal with you right now."

Hook made an impatient noise and whirled around to grin at Emma, still holding his arms out. "What do you say, love?" He wiggled his eyebrows enticingly. "Magical hug?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "All right, give me a magical hug."

Gleefully, Hook wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, laughing in her ear. "Oh, God, I'm so drunk!" he breathed. "So drunk!"

"Yeah, I guess I'm paying you back for the Halloween party," she said in a strained voice, trying to loosen his hold. "Okay, hon—you really got to let go—can't breathe!"

Hook dropped his arms, leaning his head on her. "I'm sorry," he said into her shoulder.

"You're fine," she laughed, patting his back.

"I want to dance," he said suddenly, lifting his head. "You want to dance?"

"Mmm—" she clicked her teeth, shaking her head—"not right now. Maybe later."

"But I want to dance," he insisted. "Neal, come dance!"

"Not dancing with you, bro," Neal said, propping his head up with one hand to give Hook a crooked smile. "Not today."

"Oh, come on!" Hook said, looking between the two of them. He began jumping up and down, like a child insisting his mother buy him candy. "Somebody dance with me!"

"Where's Ruby?" Emma said, following his movement with her eyes. He stopped, pointing a finger at her.

"Ruby!" he gasped. "Of course! Ruby will dance with me! RUBY!" He turned around in a circle, casting his gaze around as he continued to shout. "RUBY LUCAS, COME DANCE WITH ME!"

He strode off in search of her, drunkenly stumbling through several dancing and non-dancing couples. Emma pulled out the stool next to Neal, smiling down at his head resting on the counter.

"Pretty good party," she remarked. "Why are you sitting here all by your lonesome?"

"Headache," he said in a muffled voice. "Still trying to grasp the concept that Regina's my sister."

"Why don't you just get drunk?" Emma suggested. "Seems to be working well enough for Regina."

"Regina's got Robin to babysit her," he said, lifting his head to rest it on his folded elbows. "I don't want to walk around drunk without supervision."

Emma smiled at him, mimicking his pose as she bent over the counter. "I'll babysit you," she offered. "You took care of me at Halloween."

"That's nice, Em, but I'm just not in the party mood," Neal said, closing his eyes. "I'm kind of just hoping this is all a dream, and the real day is tomorrow."

"But then you'd have to stay awake through that ceremony all over again," she pointed out.

Neal gave an unwilling laugh. "Yeah, I s'pose."

Emma looked at him for a moment, indecisively twitching her mouth to the side. "You want to come dance?"

"Nope." Neal smiled lazily. "I don't dance, Emma. You know that."

"Yeah, but I'm bored, aren't you bored?" She sat up, tugging his arm. "Come on, Neal, let's go dance."

"I don't want to dance," he said firmly, shaking his head. "You know how I feel about public displays of emotion."

Emma groaned, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You're no fun," she wheedled. "Please? Please?"

"You go dance," he smiled, waving his hand. "I'll be here."

Emma blew out a breath, drumming her fingers on the counter. She could feel the words building up in the back of her throat, weighing on her tongue; she knew they were about to come tumbling out, whether she liked it or not.

"All right, here's the situation, Neal," she said, looking at her hands. "Recently, I, uh… I may or may not have…uh—"

"We don't have to talk about it," Neal said, slowly sitting up. "It's okay. I know."

She frowned at him. "How could you know? You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"I do, actually," he told her, raising his eyebrows. Emma felt her stomach drop.

"You do?"

"Emma, come on," he laughed. "You didn't exactly make a secret out of it."

"But—" she looked at him helplessly, her heart thumping against her chest. "But I've been flirting with Hook all day! How could you know?"

Neal stared at her. "Em, that's, like, middle-school-level tactics. Trying to make me jealous by flirting with another guy in front of me? I'm pretty sure I saw that exact technique applied in Sabrina, the Teenage Witch."

The only response she could come up with was, "That's not middle school, that's high school."

Neal looked at her with something close to pity. "That's a valid point," he said carefully.

Emma looked away and listlessly twisted the little umbrella floating in her drink. "So…how do you want to approach this?" she asked, focusing on the crackly pink paper.

"I think…" Neal tapped his fingers on the counter; she glanced over, watching his thoughtful frown deepen. "I think it would probably be best if we stuck with the 'bro' thing for now."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Bro. She was really starting to hate that word.

"Okay," she said, her voice sounding like it was million miles away. "Bros, then. That's fine."

"I don't want to just—" Neal gestured vaguely—"jump right back into it. I mean, what if you wake up tomorrow morning, and you think the same thing about Hook?"

She slowly shredded the umbrella. "Right."

"Emotions are really…" He grimaced. "They're really messy, you know? And they're assholes—sometimes they look like one thing, and they're really something else." Neal suddenly found his empty shot glass extremely interesting, looking away from her. "And you have a tendency to let yours cloud your judgment."

Emma nodded silently.

"I don't want us to give this a go, and then realize it's not going to work. I mean, I don't want to get my heart broken again, but…" Neal finally looked up at her. "Think what it would do to Henry."

Henry. Regina's words came back to her in a flood, scolding her for being immature, how she couldn't act like a kid when she had a kid. "You're right," she said, nodding. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Emma, it's fine," Neal said, putting his hand reassuringly on hers. "Let's just… let's give it some time, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled, and drew her hand away as she got up. "I'm going to dance. I'll see you later."

She turned away quickly, trying to force Neal's and Regina's words to sink in. It helped that she knew they were technically right, but she still couldn't quite focus: not right now. Her head felt too dizzy and tingly, even though she wasn't nearly drunk enough for it to be the effects of alcohol.

And maybe that was the problem: she wasn't nearly drunk enough. She abandoned her strawberry crap drink for a shot off a tray one of the waiters offered her. She didn't know what she was drinking, she just knew she wanted more.

The more she drank, the more the music echoed and drummed in her head; the lights were shinier; the dancers funnier; the spinning, floating feeling stronger. Emma was aware there was something she was vaguely upset about, but she didn't care much at the moment: she was too busy dancing and laughing at whatever it was that was so damn funny…