AN: Forewarning—I don't hate Neal… or even dislike him really, oddly, I actually have a soft spot for him. I mean, he's a fudging dick for what he did to Emma—no question, it was a dumb ass move, and the idiot tried to brush it aside in the New York episode—bahh, fudge that. But when he's around Henry, and his general characterization… I find him really interesting, and I think he's an overall good guy.

Basically to sum it up… this chapter has a lot of Neal, and consequently, Neal and Emma interactions. Er also, please remember Emma knows very little about the enchanted forest, her reactions and assumptions are based on things she's heard and may not always be correct. With that in mind, please enjoy.

~O~

The next three days were hell. Her temper had a short fuse and she found herself blowing up at almost everyone; her parents included. She couldn't help thinking back to her argument with Hook and it's following connotations; and hell if it didn't make her want to break things.

The worst part of it was that she understood. She really did and she couldn't fault Hook for wanting to punish Gold for Milah's death, hell Mr Gold deserved to be brought to some form of justice and not only for Milah. As far as Emma understood, Gold had wronged a great many of the townsfolk within Storybrooke…

But she couldn't help but see little redeeming features with in him, in the way he talked about Belle and his son—even the way Henry had recently warmed up to his grandfather—and she can't help but think that the man Hook's hunting doesn't quite exist anymore. Which only further confused the situation, because no matter how much time has passed, no matter how different Mr Gold is to the man who did those crimes, many people were still hurt, and many people, deceased or otherwise deserved justice.

But justice can never be murder, Emma reminded herself each time she found her convictions swaying.

Justice can never be murder.

~O~

"Hey, Em… can we talk?"

Emma froze, her fingers momentarily stilling on the plate she was washing up before she forced them to continue their task. "Sorry, but I'm not really in the right frame of mind for a conversation right now, and I know you must think it—this about you, but it's not…hell I wish it was, it would make things so much simpler…"

He moved closer to her, picking up the drying cloth next to her and started blotting the plates she placed on the drying rack. There was a moment's peace between them, before the familiar routine—one they'd perfected years ago—pushed past Emma's outward façade of calm. She stopped washing, placed her sopping wet hands on the small bit of counter between the outer edge of the sink and her belly, and forced herself to just freaking breathe.

"Not about me huh…?" He murmured wryly, continuing to dry his way through the stack even as Emma struggled not to fall apart beside him.

"Well it wasn't until just now." She muttered bitterly as, finally, she turned to look at him. "What do you want Neal?"

"It's about Henry."

Her eyes narrowed instantly. "What about him?"

Neal looked at her, helpless, confused and just as out of his depth as she was. "I'm not staying in Storybrooke, Em. I can't… not with my dad and the history between us… but I want to be a part of Henry's life—no I need to be part of his life, I can't abandon him… not like I was abandoned."

And how you abandoned me… She added internally.

He picked up a mug and turned it over a few times in the drying cloth. "Eleven years… and I didn't even know he existed… I've missed so much. I don't want to miss anything else… I don't want to take him away from you—I wouldn't dream of it, but maybe he could come and stay with me for a while, the holidays or something… or even just a few weekends here and there…"

She didn't expect the anger that rose with in her. Once, long ago, she'd wanted to start a family with this man. Damn it all if he wasn't showing, repeatedly; as if the universe wanted to rub it in her face, how good a father he could be—could have been. They could have been a perfect family, at least in the way that mattered, with him and Henry, she could have created the family she'd been looking for all her life. She'd trusted him with her heart, they could have had everything… but he'd broken it… In new York he'd tried to explain, offered reasons for leaving her… that he had too, that he hadn't had any other option… not once had he acknowledged what the betrayal had done to her. He hadn't thought about what he'd taken from her: the two years behind bars had been nothing in comparison.

Not once had he apologised.

She wanted to scream, to yell 'What about me?'… To beat his head against a wall until he realised Henry was not the only injured party in this situation… but she couldn't.

She was Henry's mom, and she was learning that Henry came first. In all her decisions, hell, even in her heart, he was everything, so she pushed her pain and anger behind the wall that had caged it for so many years and did her best to smile. Because this was for Henry, and he is more important than Neal ever was.

"Of course you'll be part of his life, I don't know how it'll work out, what with Storybrooke's craziness, but somehow we'll come to an arrangement."

And the stupid git was relieved. As if he'd genuinely believed she'd deny him access to his son, and okay, so she'd lied in New York by not initially telling him about Henry. But she'd just had a revelation dumped on her head and her emotions were all over the place; she thought she could be excused a brief lapse in judgement. But now, for him to think she'd purposefully keep them apart, after seeing how pleased Henry was to get to know his father… did Neal really think so little of her?

It stung; worse than she'd believed possible. Emma knew that he'd moved on, he was engaged for crying out loud, but she'd hoped for their relationship; something that had such a lasting effect on her, to at least mean something to him… instead he'd treated it with little more than casual indifference.

Neal was just so focused on Henry, which she was happy about, really she was… but seventeen year old Emma couldn't help but whisper pitifully each time Neal was around Henry or Gold… Hell even Tamara.

What about me? What about me?

~O~

She started spending more time at work, so she could avoid Neal's impromptu visits, as well as avoiding Mary Margaret's constant looks of concern. It was hard enough sorting through the emotions in her head without watching other people trying to work out what she was feeling as well.

The phone rang and Emma glanced briefly at David's figure hunched over some paperwork before she answered it.

"Sheriff Swan's office…"

"Miss Swan? It's Lloyd; one of the bar tenders down at the Green Dragon…"

"Hey Lloyd, what's up?"

"Er, well, there's a bit of a ruckus."

Emma rubbed her eyes, oh just brilliant. "A bit of a ruckus…?"

"Well, he just doesn't seem to understand that we can refuse to serve people once they get to a certain state of drunkenness, and he's refusing to leave… and well…"

"He…?"

"Captain Hook, Miss."

Emma's grip tightened considerably on the phone. "I'll be right there."

"Thank you…" She didn't give him a chance to finish as she hung up. A week—a whole week—she had managed to avoid any mention of his name, and now…

Slowly Emma got to her feet, shrugging her jacket on and reaching for her cuffs. It wasn't until she reached for her car keys that she stopped—just stopped. She wasn't ready to face him again. She was still angry and hurt, and confused and a whole host of other emotions that really didn't make any sense, and the only coherent thought she could make out was that she really, really, didn't want to see him right now.

"Hey David," She called out. "There's a disturbance down at the Green Dragon, do you mind checking it out? I've still got a load of paperwork to get through…" She asked crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Sure," He practically leapt out of his chair; it seemed he wasn't one for sitting still... and most days she'd be right there with him. "Do you want anything? I could swing by Grannies on my way back."

She shook her head and sat back down, trying not to feel guilty. There wasn't any reason to feel guilty… he was her deputy; she could send him instead if she wanted…

Coward…

~O~

Emma raised her eyes from her paperwork to see David leaning against the door to her office- she jumped, she hadn't heard him return and had no idea how long he'd been stood there. "Oh you're back, how was it?"

"Fine, Hook was just a little rowdy."

"Well, as long as it's all settled now…"

"Yeah… It's all settled…" It was obvious he was curious why she hadn't mentioned it was Hook when she sent him out, but Emma didn't have an answer for him—or even really for herself.

"Did you want something…?" She said, attempting to steer him away from the subject of Hook.

David appeared to make his mind up about something: his back straightened and his tone smoothed out, as he transformed from hesitant father to Prince charming; apparently needing his princely courage to follow through with his decision. It was honestly a little startling to observe.

"You know, Snow was obsessed with revenge when I met her."

"What?"

"She had this pouch of dust she was going to use to kill Regina and everything. She didn't exactly radiate serenity and goodness when I met her; she had a rather fierce spitfire attitude and she certainly didn't pull her punches" David smiled fondly, a softness entering his determined aura. "But I fell in love with her, hell bent on revenge and all."

Emma groaned, "Please tell me you aren't implying that I love—"

David interrupted her, moving further into the room to sit opposite her, resting his arms on the desk between them. His expression remained unreadable. "Look, I don't like it—god knows I've spent enough time trying to convince Snow that she's seeing things… but recently, well I've started to notice things as well, and I'm not going to be so encompassed by my own feelings on the matter to ignore yours." He sighed, briefly hiding his head in his hands. "Love—"

"David, please don't…" She knew what he was going to say—and every fibre of her being rebelled against it… she didn't want to hear this.

"Wait, Emma just let me finish…"

Surprisingly she found herself nodding; unable to do much else as she watched the conflicted emotions play out across David's face.

"Love isn't something we have control over…" He chuckled softly, "as much as probably every person in the many worlds wished it was. Sometimes it just happens, like your mother and I, but even then it was something we had to fight for." He moved his hand across the table to squeeze hers. "And I know you've been hurt in the past, and you have no idea how much I wish you never had to go through that kind of pain… but Emma—love is worth fighting for."

Wait. What? She tugged her hand free, feeling her anger bubble to the surface… "You think I should fight for Neal? I don't… god, that was years ago…besides he's engaged—I… Uh. No. Just no—"

David smiled fondly as he stood. "I wasn't talking about Neal."

Um, Hook? Really? But Emma didn't love him… She'd only just met him for goodness sake, this was the real world—there is no such thing as love at first sight… besides she was still furious with him. She shook her head. "He's trying to kill Gold."

"Snow was trying to kill Regina."

"Regina was evil; she was called the Evil Queen for crying out loud?"

"Rumplestiltskin wasn't exactly sunshine and daisy's either…"

David turned to leave, seemingly believing his last statement to be a 'case closed' kind of thing… but Emma stopped him… there was something she needed to get off her chest, and … well… it seemed she needed a dad right now. "He… er, I mean, well… we argued, I suppose in a way I gave him an ultimatum: Gold or me." She stared at her fingers. "He chose Gold."

There it was… the thing that had been bugging her for days; laid out in the open—in front of her father of all people…

Oh ground, feel free to open up anytime now.

"Did he even know exactly what 'you' entailed? From what Snow tells me, you and Hook have two stepped around each other since you met. Does he know there was a possibility for more?" To his credit, he sounded far more comfortable with this conversation than he looked.

"It could never work." Emma replied, ignoring David's question. "He's Captain Hook… and I'm…"

"My daughter…" David said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "…A strong passionate woman, who can see into the heart of people—and who doesn't care what other people think of her, or her choices."

"But Henry…" She began; unsure.

"—would want his mother to be happy..." He turned to leave then stopped; when it seemed his protective nature got the better of him. "And while I stand by what I said, about fighting for love… if someone can't see how brilliant you are straight away, then they really aren't worth your time, and as your father I retain the right to break the legs of anyone who hurts you."

She snorted, "I thought I was a 'strong passionate woman'?"

"You are, but even strong passionate women are entitled to equally passionate fathers, who retain the right to fight in their daughters corner whether they require aid or not." David winked playfully at her, "Now if you'll excuse me, there's a young man sat drinking tea in my house who awaits a broken leg and a fractured jaw for good measure. I only have a small window of opportunity before Henry come's home, so I'd best be off."

Emma laughed at his retreating back, not for a second believing he'd actually carry through with his threat. Part of her hated the idea of Neal drinking tea with Mary Margaret, she didn't like how easily he was reinserting himself into her life… but the other part; the larger part, was pondering her fathers' words.

David seemed convinced she had feelings for Hook, and apparently so did Mary Margaret, and maybe she did… but regardless to any ones speculation she had no idea the depth of those feelings. It was all well and good David talking about love, and 'fighting for it' but Emma couldn't help but feel it was a little to… fairytale-ish to fit into her life—and yes, she was fully aware of the irony in that statement.

After all only a week ago told Hook to give up on his quest for vengeance otherwise he'd be dealing with her. Not exactly a great start to an epic love story.

And sure he was attractive, something she'd noticed the first time she met him—she did have eyes after all. She'd looked into those faraway blue eyes of his and thought 'hell, that's an attractive blacksmith' followed by the tingly feeling she got when she was lied to and the thought immediately turned to 'hell, that's an attractive liar' and hello walls; she wasn't getting hurt again.

However, it was impossible to deny there was a sort of spark, accompanied by a rush of something when she looked at him. She was drawn to him and Emma wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

Besides, their argument was still fresh in her mind and she was still stung by some of his comments towards her. Hell, she wasn't even sure Hook liked her—after all his flirting was often little more than a defense mechanism—and here she was going off on a tangent and it may not even be an issue.

Let's not forget: He is still in love with Milah.

…But something in the way he looked at her, the way his gaze remained intense and penetrating, a blatant invitation screaming to be acknowledged.

She folded her arms across her desk and dropped her head down upon them. God…What was she doing?

~O~

Neal's gone home for the night; you can come out of hiding. –David.

Finally, Emma thought as she read David's text. It was bordering on ten o'clock, and she'd exhausted her supply of paper work, even as back logged as she was—there was only so much to complete. She'd spent the last few hours rearranging her office, all the while purposefully avoiding the bottom draw of her desk.

Not, mind, that she was hiding. She was just… okay, yeah, she was hiding. It's just watching Neal with Henry hurt a little too much to deal with on a regular basis…

Just about to leave. –Emma. She replied, stifling a yawn. She made to get up before she paused, frowned at her phone and fired off another text.

And I'm not hiding.

David's lack of response was mocking in its absence. Blasted fathers—if she'd known this was what it was like she wouldn't have wished so hard for one all these years. Okay—so that was a total lie. She grinned to herself- she kind of loved it. David and Mary Margaret were everything she could have hoped for.

Lazily she stretched, extending her arms above her head and rolling her neck slowly. God, she'd kill for a good night's sleep. Carelessly she tapped her sock covered feet around under her desk, searching for the shoe's she toed off hours ago. Aha- she slid her feet into them.

Finally she reached for her car keys.

She heard the front door to the station slam back on its hinges.

Her eyes fluttered shut briefly in frustration—so close, she was so, so, close to just going home. Cautiously she got to her feet, moving out of her office towards the stations entrance. To her disbelief Neal came through the door, supporting a badly beaten Hook.

"What the hell happened?" Emma demanded as she rushed forward to help. Between them it took no time at all to manoeuvre him into the nearest chair. "Why didn't you take him to the hospital?"

"That would be because of me dearie." The drawling tones of Mr Gold followed his son into the room, his cane—notably bloodied—ever present at his side.

"Shut up, and sit down." Surprisingly the biting phrase came from Neal not Emma, earning the man a shocked glance from the blonde woman.

"Bae…"

"Just sit." Neal's tone was harsh, and Emma didn't think she recalled ever hearing him speak to anyone that way before. He'd always been so laid back—about everything.

Emma dropped to her knees before Hook, and gently prodded his chin up so she could look in his eyes. Thankfully he was still conscious, but he remained a little dazed.

"Neal, what happened?" She repeated, her fingers probing the pirates head for cuts and bumps.

"I'd just left yours. I was headed back to my room when I stumbled across these two going at it in the street. I managed to break it up and brought them here, I figured since you hadn't been home all day you were probably still at the station…"

"But why here? Look at him, he needs a doctor."

Neal spared a brief glance over his shoulder then lowered his head next to hers; whispering. "It's not safe for Hook there. Listen, I know my dad alright, for tonight at least, until he's calmed down, it's better to keep Hook somewhere safe."

"How exactly am I supposed to keep him safe?" She whispered back furiously, "In case you didn't notice, your dad is Rumplestilskin."

"Look, Em… when he's like this, it's like he's not himself. He's not my dad… he's that thing. The dark one… please, you have to help."

It sucked really, that after all these years, even though she's moved on, those damn eyes never failed to get to her.

"Fine," she muttered. "Take your dad home, I've got this covered. Just wait here a second while I grab the first aid kit; I'm pretty sure there's one in my office."

Neal chuckled.

She raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Nothing, it's just, who would have thought it. Emma Swan, a Sheriff, with her own office." His gaze was soft—almost proud as he looked at her. "Life sure takes us to mysterious places."

She began to get up, when something he said triggered a thought. "Why do you care what happens to Hook anyway?"

"I told you, this wasn't the first world I travelled too."

She grinned despite herself, "Never land?" Unbidden memories of a map and Tallassee rose to the forefront of her mind.

As if he was thinking the same thing, he smiled, almost fondly and nodded. "I swear I almost had a heart attack when you said that."

She laughed despite herself, "I thought you were freaking about settling down. It's why I was so persistent about asking 'are you sure?'"

The almost casual conversation trailed off, as if at the same time they realised they had an audience.

Exit Emma, centre stage. "Er, right. First aid kit… I'll be right back."

~O~

"I found it—" Emma trailed off as she re-entered the main portion of the station to see Neal barely restraining Hook from diving at Mr Gold; the later of who was chuckling darkly and egging the already frustrated man on.

Oh geez…She straightened her back, "Get out." She snapped angrily at the elderly man, noticing his cane was less of a clutch and more of a prop; spinning in his hand like a sword.

He smirked at her, "Not without Bae…" A hint of something else crept into his tone at the mention of his son, and the next instant the cane was once again perpendicular to the floor.

Neal finally managed to wrestle Hook back into the chair, something Emma attributed to how beaten the pirate truly was. She knew from personal experience that Neal was no fighter; he was more of a run and avoid type of guy.

"Okay, Okay, I'll go." Neal muttered, looking anywhere but his father. His hands remained braced on each of the pirate's shoulders, keeping the man in his seat. His gaze lingered briefly on Hook then fell upon Emma. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

"What?" She said immediately, both surprised and suspicious.

"We need to talk and you've been avoiding me," he answered.

"I haven't—okay, fine. Granny's, lunch?" Emma wanted to end this conversation quickly. Hook and Gold weren't exactly the two people she wanted around to witness her awkward attempts at avoiding her ex.

He nodded relieved.

Emma glanced cautiously at Gold, who, thankfully, was no longer laughing, or goading Hook, but his appearance seemed slightly off—his skin appeared rougher than usual… but perhaps it was simply the lighting. "Are you going to be okay?" She directed her question at Neal.

Neal's lips quirked into a smile, "He's still my dad, Em… Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"I wasn't worried."

The Worst part..? She wasn't even sure if she was telling the truth.

~O~

Hey, I'll be home a little later. Something came up. – Emma

Is everything okay? Need a hand? –David

Thanks. But I've got it under control. –Emma

Stay safe. –David

Don't I always? –Emma

~O~

Hooks earlier, brief, lunge attempt at Gold appeared to sap whatever fight was left in him, as he didn't so much as glance in her direction when she snapped on a pair of blue gloves, nor did he flinch when she dabbed an antiseptic soaked cotton bud against his temple.

Neal had practically dragged his father from the station about five minutes ago, and since then Emma had given Hook a thorough once over. Other than a shallow gash on his temple, his only other injuries seemed to be the numerous bruises littering his skin; swelling to life in shades of deep reds and faint blues.

The sight of him, broken and bloodied sapped the remaining anger from her veins. It was pathetic really, over a week she'd nursed her anger and the visage of him slightly beaten up just knocked her frustration right out the window. She racked her brain for something to break the awkward silence… wondering, in the wake of her forgotten annoyance, whether Hook was still irritated with her. She found herself hoping he wasn't.

It was Hook who finally broke the silence. "Last I saw the lad he was dead set on running from his father, never thought he'd ever stand up to the man." He cast a shrewd look in her general direct, still avoiding eye contact. "Guess he found something worth fighting for."

Emma couldn't help but snort, "Yeah, his son. I had nothing to do with it. Also I recall he helped you out, going to tell me he was fighting for you too? Something you want to tell me?"

That got a response. Granted it was merely a glare, but huzzah, eye contact. It was progress.

"How do you know each other anyway?"

He shrugged, "Our paths have crossed several times over the years."

Emma silently gestured for him to continue as she once again reached for the antiseptic but Hook remained silent. Perhaps it was a little petty, but she pressed slightly harder as she dabbed at his cut.

He glanced at her in annoyance. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Why would I want to learn more about my son's father? Obviously I should be content knowing practically nothing about the man I had a child with… especially when everything I thought I knew turned out to be a lie." She replied sarcastically.

"I meant why trust my words on the subject?"

She sighed, "…because you're more likely to give me the truth—don't look at me like that. Everyone in this damn town seems to have an ulterior motive. But all you want is to kill Rumplestiltskin, nothing you say about Neal is going to affect that."

A strange look passed over his face.

"Please." She pressed.

Hook gaze refocused on his hands. "I met the boy in Neverland, found him in the water. He became part of my crew. He was a good lad; hard working, a might too soft to be a pirate but he got on well enough with my men. Course I didn't realise who he was a first. The boy learned early on that I wanted the crocodile dead so he probably thought it safer if I remained ignorant of his parentage. But then he—like you—noticed my tattoo."

"What then?"

"We parted ways, he'd learnt what Rumplestiltskin did to his mother and I learnt who he was… and while I may not be the most noble of men, I'm not one to force a boy to witness his father's death. Upon leaving Neverland I went after the crocodile, and the lad continued onto a different world to continue running from the man."

"His mother…?" Emma looked at him in confusion for a moment…. "Milah?"

Hook nodded not at all surprised she'd made the connection.

Emma recoiled and leapt to her feet. "Gold killed his wife?! His son's mother?!"

Hook chuckled bitterly, "…And the lass finally gets it."

Justice could never be murder.

~O~

After the revelation of exactly who Milah was Emma retreated into silence, dabbing absently at Hook's bleeding knuckles. It didn't occur to her that the conversation with Hook meant his initial post beating daze had faded—hopefully indicating the man didn't have a concussion—and that he could tend to his own wounds. She continued to dab at the broken skin, all but oblivious to his scrutiny.

She just didn't know what to think anymore. Every time she thought she'd come to grips with feuds between the various occupants of Storybrooke something else always seemed to pop up.

It had stunned her. Hell, she was beyond stunned, she was horrified. Gold had murdered his wife. All because she'd run away with a pirate. Not that Emma was condoning Milah's actions because woah; dick move there, but still, how barbaric was that land if people just murdered their wives if they ran away with pirates?

And not just Gold… Regina put a whole town under a curse—a curse that robbed people of their true identities—just to get back at one woman?

Part of her wanted to run home, pack up a suitcase—no, forget the suitcase, just grab Henry and go. God, how was she supposed to keep him safe in a town with magic and nut jobs? Especially when the 'nut jobs' were the ones with magic?

Rationally she knew running wasn't an option. What about her parents? They couldn't cross the town line. She'd be taking Henry from the only home he'd ever known; all the places and people he cared about. She couldn't—wouldn't do that to him.

But could things really stay as they were?

Emma shook her head. Things couldn't stay as they were, not with Cora, Regina and Gold pulling the strings behind everything that happened in Storybrooke. Somehow, something needed to change.

"You alright lass?" Interrupted Hook; his voice soft with a familiar roughness to it. "Not that I don't love the attention, really a bloke could get used to this, but I think the bleedings stopped."

"Right, yeah." She murmured absently.

Emma started to pull her hand away when Hook grabbed it, stilling its movement.

"Wh-?" The question died on her lips as he carefully turned it over, baring her palm to world. She resisted the urge to shiver as his hook moved to support her hand; cold and smooth, a complete contrast to the warm calloused skin of the finger tracing the faint line marring her hand. Almost without thinking she raised her eyes to his, once again reminded of the intensity the man was capable of. Dark stormy blue eyes bore into hers and for the briefest of moments she forgot how to breathe.

"Seems you got a chance to return the favour…" A bruise was beginning to darken across his cheekbone. "Look, Swan, I said some things I should probably apologise for. You're just trying to protect your loved ones; even a pirate can't fault you for that." He smiled ruefully. "I shouldn't have lost my temper."

She stared at him in disbelief. That was certainly out of the blue. Never in a million years had she expected Captain Hook to apologise and especially not like… like that…

"Wow," she started wryly, "You really know how to apologise."

The grin she received in response was disarmingly charming, accompanied by a smug sort of shrug. "Gotta avoid the hangman somehow love..."

He paused for a moment eyeing her in contemplation, but then it seemed he just couldn't help himself. "Want to know what else I can do?"

Oh my god, way to ruin the moment. She snatched her hand out of his, doing her best not to smile—because she was not amused, she wasn't! "Don't push your luck."

~O~

Neal was already sat at a booth the following day when Emma finally made her way through the door to Granny's. She gave Ruby a small smile to sooth the woman's questioning glance as she slid into the booth opposite Neal.

"Hey, how's Hook?"

"He's fine, crashed on my couch last night. David wasn't impressed, but from the sniping I had to endure between the two of them this morning I'd say Hook's going to be fine. A little bruised but otherwise alright."

She didn't mention that after her and David's er… chat yesterday she'd been forced to explain a rather uncomfortable misunderstanding when her dad woken to find the pirate out cold on her couch as she pottered around the kitchen. It was mortifying.

"So," She said finally, giving him her full attention. She was pretty sure he hadn't asked to meet just to talk about Hook. "What's up?"

"I want you to help me save my dad."

She blinked. "What?"

Neal took a small sip of his coffee before he repeated himself. "I want you to help me free my dad from the dark ones curse."

"The dark ones curse?" She parroted numbly, of all the things she's thought Neal might have wanted to talk about, this wasn't it. Call her selfish, but she thought maybe—just maybe the damn fool realised he'd forgotten to make a pretty big apology to someone: that someone being her.

An uncomfortable feeling settled over her chest; heavy and immovable. She should have known it would be something Rumplestiltskin related. She should have known she wasn't going to be first in Neal's thoughts. The disappointment was shattering. She'd held on to the foolish hope that maybe, just maybe he was simply biding his time, summoning the courage to talk to her about it properly but he wasn't—he really wasn't.

"You did read the book Henry lent me… didn't you?" He teased, but she couldn't help the anger that rose in the wake of her disappointment.

He wanted her to help him save Rumplestilksin, as if Neal was allowed to simply ask favours. He'd left her. She owed him nothing and she certainly didn't owe Gold anymore. She couldn't believe Neal had the nerve to just sit there, even after he dumped Hook on her last night without a care for plans she may have had, and to ask her to risk her neck to save his dad?

Hell no. She was done fixing his problems; he could save his dad on his own. Furiously she got to her feet, ignored his noise of surprise, and stormed out of the diner.

~O~

Half way down Main Street he caught up with her.

"Okay," He said, spinning around in front of her so she was forced to stop. "I've pissed you off… I don't understand… I thought you would have wanted to help Henry's Grandfather, he wasn't always like this. Before the curse he was a good man."

She regretted it the moment the words left her lips. "What about Milah?"

He froze.

Emma hated the pain that flashed across his face, frantically she tried to backtrack. This wasn't how she'd wanted this conversation to go. "No, Neal, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for… I just, god Neal, your dad just makes things so difficult sometimes."

He tucked his hands into his coat pockets; shoe's shuffling awkwardly on the sidewalk. "My dad loved my mother, Em. I grew up with him, I know him. It wasn't until that—that stupid curse that everything changed. Please, please, just help me get my dad back."

She snapped. There was no other explanation for it. One minute she was calm, and trying her best to control her anger, the next it was loose and refusing to be caged until she had an explanation…

Because he was still asking for things: time with Henry, for them to be civil with each other, for her to save his dad… but he wasn't giving her anything in return. She needed answers, and it seemed she'd finally had enough of waiting for them.

"Why? Why should I do anything for you?! You sent me to jail."

He winced, recoiling in on himself. "Em…"

"No. No more excuses, no more dodging the question. Forget Storybrooke and magic and your Dad for just a second okay… I need the truth. You sent me to jail, why?"

"It's not that simple…"

"Make it that simple. I want to know why, Neal. We were going to settle down, Tallahassee; do you remember? We were going to start a family. Gods, we were going to start a family, have a home, everything you knew I'd always wanted." She took a step back from him, refusing to be mollified by the pain she saw mirrored in his eyes.

She wasn't stupid; she knew it had hurt him. Just as she knew he'd loved her—once. New York had given her that much, the decision, whatever reason he'd come up with to justify leaving her hadn't been an easy one. But prison?

"But you sent me to prison. I got two years. I had Henry in prison. I need to know why walking away wasn't enough?"

"You want to do this now?" He asked, "Here?" He gestured to the sidewalks of Main Street with the various towns folk.

"Yes Neal. Damn it, you could have just walked away! You wanted to run from your dad fine, run, but why in the world did that include—"

"I wanted to go to prison for you." He interrupted, loud and exasperated and this was what she wanted. A real, honest heartfelt explanation that hasn't been rehearsed over and over until it sounds good enough to let him sleep at night. "I never should have…" He broke off. "I never should have let August convince me that prison was the right option, but at the time it sounded… I don't know… August said you'd lost your way, and that you needed to find it again; to get out of stealing… and me… I was bad for you Emma."

"Bad for me?! Neal at that point in my life you were the only good thing I'd…" She stopped and shook her head. "Don't you think that should have been a decision I had to make for myself?"

"You don't get it Emma, I loved you. I would never have been able to just walk away but prison—prison meant I didn't have a choice." He reached out and gently placed a hand against her cheek, his thumb brushing away tears she hadn't realised had started to fall. "But I thought about you every day—every single day."

She stepped away, feeling something oddly significant in the way his hand simple fell to his side. It took a few seconds in which she swiped at the tears on her face and she tried to form words without falling apart, all the while becoming more and more conscious of the audience they'd gathered. Finally she spoke, "But in the years that followed you never tried to find me."

His eyes dropped to the floor, then to her surprise rose to meet hers; it seemed he'd finally realised he owed her that much. "No." He whispered softly. "I didn't."

~O~

AN: So, Em's had a bit of an emotional rollercoaster; sorry if it got a little repetitive, it stemmed a little from the way people tend to overthink the same thing over and over again, especially when it's something close to the heart you know? But I realise in fic's it can get a little annoying… but I felt it was necessary, feel free to disagree though! :D

Uh... and sorry again about the abundance of Neal, it kind of just happened.