Why does it have to be so fucking cold?

Emma sat on the front steps of the church, cursing Mary Margaret for being late. Without her precious yellow bug and license, Emma had to rely on her best friend for transportation, which she was not entirely happy about. Mary Margaret was perfect in a lot of ways, but punctuality was not her strong suit, and Emma had to suffer for it. She didn't want to be in a bad mood when her friend would eventually arrive, but Emma just couldn't shake off her annoyance at what had happened back in that basement.

Stupid Killian!

Who did that man think he was? He basically embarrassed Emma in front of a group of strangers when he didn't even know who she was. Calling her lass and trying to swoon her with his snarky comments and cheeky smirks. He was unbelievable, and Emma had to spend the next year with him in AA meetings! As if Emma's life wasn't already a mess, she now had to deal with an insufferable pretty boy who had somehow taken an interest in her for some unknown reason. Life had a sick sense of humor, and Emma was the butt of the joke (as always).

"You know lass, frowning doesn't really suit you that well, maybe try to smile once in awhile."

Emma jerked her head up to see the prat standing above her, another stupid smirk plastered on his face. His blue eyes stared down at her with amusement, which made Emma even more annoyed.

"Please leave me alone," she said. "You're honestly the last person I want to see right now and I don't even know you." Emma heard him chuckle, which infuriated her even more.

"How can I be the last person you want to see when you don't even know me?" he asked, taking a seat next to her on the stairs. Even though he was seemingly trying to push her buttons, he kept a comfortable distance between the two of them.

"You called me out in front of a whole group of alcoholics, and then proceeded to embarrass me in the process," she said, trying her hardest not to snap at him. "This isn't exactly a place where you want people to know who you are, and I was trying my best to blend in and stay invisible."

"Now there's no fun in being invisible lass," Killian said. "Life is about putting yourself out there for the world to notice, and seeing what comes back to you." If he hadn't infuriated her earlier in the evening, Emma would have thought this statement could be somewhat inspirational. But it wasn't.

"I don't know if anyone has told you, but being an alcoholic isn't something to be fucking proud about," Emma spat. "But I guess you're too full of yourself to figure that out." She definitely wasn't holding anything back with this guy.

"That's what society wants you to think, but I don't exactly give a damn about what society thinks," Killian said simply. "And maybe it's about time you did the same lass."

"Please stop calling me lass!" Emma yelled, completely past the point of caring if others heard her. His stupid words had unfortunately gotten to her, and she could no longer keep her anger in check. How could Killian tell her to stop worrying about what society thought when he didn't know what society had done to her ever since she was born? He had no clue the wars she had to go through in order to be sitting on the stairs next to him, how life had been trying to take her out ever since hers started. So how dare he try to tell her what to do when it came to society.

"You don't know me, I don't know you, we just happen to be in the same fucking Alcoholics Anonymous group, which isn't exactly an achievement." Emma was fuming, and not one ounce of her was feeling guilty at biting off Killian's neck.

The man just looked at her, and for a fraction of a second Emma noticed a change in his expression, particularly in his striking eyes. Was it guilt? Sadness? Or even pity? But those emotions quickly disappeared as he stood up.

"Alright la—, I mean miss," he started. A slight blush came across his face at his almost mistake, and for a fleeting moment he looked embarrassed. Even though Emma was angry with him, she couldn't deny that it was somewhat cute.

"I'll just see you next week than," he said. He gave her a weak smile, nothing like his smirks from earlier, and began to walk away. Just as Emma thought she wouldn't have to hear his voice until the next meeting, Killian turned around to address her.

"Believe me, I know being an alcoholic isn't an achievement, but it's also not a death sentence," he said, his voice quieter and more serious. "I don't know who you are, I don't even know your name, but I know that you're more than an alcoholic. We all are." He gave her once last look, and continued on his way down the street. Emma watched his leather-clad back until he disappeared, the darkness seemingly consuming him.

Looks are obviously deceiving, especially when it comes to Killian.

"I guess there's not much to say about your first meeting, huh?" Mary Margaret asked. She and Emma were sitting in her brown pick-up truck in front of Emma's apartment building. Their ride home was definitely a silent one, for more than one reason. Things had been fragile between the two friends since Mary Margaret found out that her best friend had a drinking problem and been hiding it from everyone. Even though she didn't want Emma to know, Mary Margaret felt hurt that the blonde didn't trust her with something so important as being an alcoholic. She thought they had a trusting and honest relationship, especially after all of the battles the two had to fight together in the past. But now, Mary Margaret wasn't so sure what their friendship was anymore.

"It's nothing that you would want to hear, trust me," Emma answered. She thought Mary Margaret was too innocent for Alcoholics Anonymous, and telling her anything about the night's events would further put their friendship off track. "Plus, I just listened to what others had to say, I didn't really contribute."

Emma could tell that her friend didn't believe her, but thankfully Mary Margaret didn't push it any farther. She didn't think she could have another serious conversation after what happened tonight. Killian had already left her mind reeling enough for the time being. Emma started to unbuckle her seatbelt and open the door when Mary Margaret stopped her.

"Emma, I know you hate hearing this, and you probably won't do it, but you can talk to me," she said. "I don't want you to go through this alone; you have me and David and countless other people who are here for you and care about you. Please don't shut us all out."

How can Mary Margaret be so loving and kind after all of this? Emma didn't have an answer to that question, but she was truly thankful that her friend hadn't abandoned her in her darkest time of need. But there was a part of her that liked to keep these things to herself, probably because she was so used to doing it throughout her life. It was an odd and sick comfort that she wasn't ready to give up just yet. She just needed time.

"Thank you, I really do appreciate all that you and David have done, believe me I do," Emma said. "And I promise you, one day I'll tell you everything. I just have to work some stuff out" She gave the woman a small smile, showing that she would in fact be okay. Mary Margaret returned it with her own, and the simple gesture brought a radiance to her face, one that Emma was familiar with and appreciated.

"Okay Emma, try to have a good night. David will be here tomorrow morning to give you a ride to work," Mary Margaret said, sounding like a mother. "And I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Emma said her own goodbyes and got out of the truck. She watched as her friend drove away and disappeared around the corner before she proceeded into her apartment building. She said hello to George the receptionist before taking the elevator up to the fifth floor and to her apartment. Unlocking the door and crossing the threshold, Emma felt a sense of relief now that she was back in her sanctuary and away from the world's prying eyes and judgmental opinions.

Flicking on the lights, Emma made her way to the kitchen to pour herself a glass a orange juice. Before her accident, Emma would have poured herself a glass of vodka and proceeded to drink the whole bottle throughout the night. But her whole stock of alcohol had been raided and thrown out by David and Mary Margaret, so she was unfortunately without her old friends. She had to make due without them.

Emma sat down on the couch and turned on the television, hoping that some mindless show would distract her from her own problems. She didn't want to think about her problems at all, and after her encounter with Killian, she believed it was best for her not to have alone time with her thoughts. Without alcohol it was a lot harder for Emma to lose herself, though she tried her best to.

Yet her mind seemed to always end up back on a pair of sapphire gems staring deep into her soul, and an Irish accent telling her that she was more than an alcoholic. If only she could believe that was true.