Merry Christmas one and all!

Wherever you may be may your day be jolly, happy, you get all the gifts you wanted, and the receipts for all the ones you dont!

Now my present for you, not one, not two, but three (that's right three! no substitutions, exchanges or refunds!) new updates! I figured this day was a great day to have you staring blankly at your screen of whatever device you are reading this on. (Also because the second chapter had a clear thematic shift and needed to be respected with the division of chapters. You may notice they're a little shorter than the rest, but i do hope you'll forgive me for it :))

Now, on with the show!

~88888~

For the first time in years Neal was happy. It was real, it was true. His smile was effortless, easy, un-fucking-bridled. He hadn't felt this good in years. He could feel himself practically skipping around town. And it was all thanks to them, his family, and especially her. He had something that he'd waited a decade for, something that he'd missed out on, something that under no circumstance was he ever going to lose again. No, he hadn't lost her a decade ago, he had left her; no not even that was right, he let her go. A crack, in the form of a supposed guardian angel had come between them, and in the space of five minutes his relationship with Emma Swan was done. There were moments in the past decade when Neal had found himself wondering whether it still could have happened, could she still have saved everyone if he was still in her life? He hoped so. But instead he let the fear of his father's existence in this world paralyze him, and he chose to blame it on her destiny, rather than acknowledge the real reason.

But he should have known it wouldn't matter. His father was a force that could not be stopped. He should have known that no matter what happened with Emma and the curse, the moment his father got his memories back he would find him, and that wasn't an 'if'. Ten years he had spent wondering the continent, criss-crossing places, never staying more than a few months. August found him in New York after he'd only been there a few weeks. He should have left then, should have gone back upstairs and packed his bag, gone to Chicago, or maybe found a way to get on a plane and go to Europe. But he hadn't, he turned down the street and met Tamara. He should have known he was making a mistake.

But none of that mattered now because he was here, in Storybrooke, the same town as her, and he was seeing her every day. And not only was he seeing her, he was seeing Henry.

Oh boy was that a kick in the chest. Ten years he'd believed he'd left her alone; ten years he'd blamed himself for losing happiness. Then that little boy walked into his living room and called her 'mom'. Those ten years of mourning the past hit him like a train hits a deer in darkness. He was furious, he was seething, and none of that anger was at her, it was all at himself. What type of a fucking idiot leaves his girlfriend when she's pregnant? Then a horde of new questions filled his mind; when did she find out, was that why she was so keen for them to settle down, did she even know? In that moment that Henry shouted his age, Neal knew that if he had known Emma was pregnant there was no way in hell that he was going to leave her behind, no way in hell that August and his words were going to separate them. He and Emma would have been together, a family, and family doesn't leave family behind. He was going to be there for that kid in the way that his father never could.

Destiny it seemed was a truly cruel mistress.

Thus, he was going to spend the rest of his life making up for his absence. He was going to be the best father in all the worlds, he was going to make his son proud, and he was going to make his father squirm. And Emma, well, he was going to spend the rest of his life making her believe that he loved her, no matter what. And if she believed that she loved him, then he was going to make her the happiest woman alive. No one was going to question their happiness; no one was going to interfere. They were going to get married, (and when the time was right, maybe have one or two more kids) and live their happily ever after. In years to come, people would be telling their children stories about the great love of Emma Swan and Neal Cassidy.

Sure she had been a little distant lately, but it had been a week. They had returned from Neverland and finally had to deal with all the awkwardness between them that they had put aside on that godforsaken island. They had both been required to tell each other (and everyone else) very private facts about each other, facts that ordinarily, they never would have shared. There was a requirement amongst all couples when these types of facts were shared – especially in the beginning – that there be a brief period of awkwardness. Hell, it had taken her almost two days before she was able to properly look him in the eye again. But he was certain it was getting better.

Not even that argument they had had about her learning magic was going to intrude. One step at a time, slow and steady. Neal might have been impatient in waiting for her, but he knew he had no right to demand anything of her. No, where she was concerned, he was as patient as a clam. Everything was going to work out.

Then he saw her gazing at the Jolly Roger one afternoon. He saw the glaze in her eyes of someone staring off to space, and put it down to simple coincidence, but he had caught her shortly after as they were walking away, looking over her shoulder at the ship. The jealous voice that had whispered sweet nothings to him in Neverland as he saw her interactions with Hook raised its ugly voice. But he wasn't going to listen to it. 'She's with you; she chose you' he would say to himself, plastering a smile on his face as she would look at him with concern. No way in hell was he going to voice those demons to her. He had just got her back in his life, that was a sure fire way to push her away.

And then came this day, and looking at the calendar, it could only happen on Friday the 13th.

Neal had awoken early. His room at Granny's was getting a trite constricting. He had made the decision to get his own place the night they returned from Neverland. He realized he was needed in this town, and he wanted his own space; his own bedroom, his own kitchen, and most importantly, a room for Henry. He wanted to at least have looked through the paper at the apartment listings before he met up with Henry for breakfast.

Whilst seeing Emma might have been the highlight of his day, Henry was quickly becoming his world in a way he could not imagine. He loved that kid more than he truly thought possible. He especially loved studying him; seeing his little quirks and identifying who he got them from. Hot chocolate with cream and cinnamon was definitely from his mother, but the way he cut up his food with his cutlery was definitely one from him. Neal had gotten distracted gazing at his boy again when he realized how little time they had before Henry had to get to school. David's presence had almost meant that they had missed Henry's bus, but it had piqued Neal's interest.

Sure Emma had a life outside of her family – that life being work – but Neal still found it interesting that she was 'missing'. Still, once he had Henry on the bus he figured he may as well check out a few places to see where she might be, he needed to talk to her anyway. Still, he didn't get a chance to look at many places when he saw her storming along the sidewalk. And storming he thought might have been putting it lightly such was the way she moved along the pavement. Her pace was frightening, it was clear she was in a hurry, but he didn't bother speeding up to catch her. What he needed to talk to her about wasn't important, so he kept up his plodding pace. Despite the snow that littered the ground the morning wasn't particularly chilly, but in the shadows of the buildings, it was quite cool. Neal figured she was just moving fast to keep warm and get out of the cold.

He was on one of the buildings lowest steps when he heard shouting. He looked up at the floors above him wondering where it came from. In the short time he had been in Storybrooke he had acknowledged one firm thing, domestic disturbances didn't happen. At least, if they did, people were smart enough to keep out of the way, as the people involved in the disturbances often had questionable histories. Still, it didn't stop Neal from climbing the stairs. When he reached the floor that housed the Charming family he heard raised voices echoing through the walls. He wondered what could make the family shout at each other in the way that they were. But then everything went silent. Slowly he approached the door, but he froze when he heard Emma's voice. Did she just say she was in love with him? Wait, what was she saying?

Neal knew that eavesdropping on his girlfriend and her parents was definitely not something he should be doing, but he desperately wanted to hear what was going on.

"...you love..." Mary Margaret's voice was muffled through the door.

He had been creeping ever closer, desperate to get his ear to the keyhole, and suddenly he froze in place. He desperately wanted to hear Emma's response whilst another part of him was petrified of what it would mean if he did. He couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't breathe. There was no way in hell he was going to miss what Emma had to say. He wanted to cut out David's tongue when he heard him speak, furious that he might be talking over his daughter. But then he heard Mary Margaret's voice again and he realized he hadn't missed Emma's response. He exhaled heavily as he finally reached the door.

"I care about him allot." He finally heard Emma respond.

His heart leapt in his chest. It didn't matter if she didn't say those three little words to her mother; he could hear it in her voice. She was in love with him. They did have a future, they would be together; this was a happy ending for the ages. He fought the urge to barge in and declare his undying love for her, (remember what happened to guys caught eavesdropping on their girlfriends?). Barging in was definitely going to ranker her. But still, he wanted to tell her that he was sorry for leaving her, he wanted to tell her that he never stopped loving her, and he wanted it to mean more than a dying man's last words. He wanted to kiss her and hug her, tell her with his soul that he would never leave her again. She was his family, and family stayed together, protecting each other, garnering strength from each other.

"You need to tell Neal and Henry, the sooner the better." Neal's happiness was suddenly jolted by Mary Margaret's voice.

There was something in her tone that was unsettling to him. It was the tone of a mother advising her daughter, not encouraging her. It was a tone that chilled Neal's blood. The daydream of him and Emma getting married, her in white, him in a tux, Henry being page boy was suddenly in extreme danger. Neal was suddenly petrified that he wasn't being discussed in the next room. There was something about the way his mother in-law said his name that had rocked him to his core.

"You can't start anything with Hook before you do." Mary Margaret continued.

"I think it's a little late for that." David's voice sounded and it was like a knife to Neal's chest.

And just like that the fantasy was destroyed. They weren't talking about him; they weren't talking about him. Everything was being ripped away from underneath him. It wasn't possible, not now, not again. That bastard had already destroyed his childhood, his past, and now he was destroying his present, his future. But what was worse were those words from David: 'it's a little late'. Emma wasn't just thinking of starting something with Hook, she already had! For the first time in years Neal wanted to bawl his eyes out like child. He wanted to punch and maim Hook, destroy him. The fantasy Neal had just been enjoying no longer featured him; it was Hook in the tux, Hook putting the ring on her finger, Hook kissing her tenderly beneath the rose covered arch, Hook growing old with her. Every hope and dream he had been silently harboring since Emma and Henry came into his life were now lying in tatters at his feet.

He couldn't stay, couldn't hear anything else, he already knew everything he needed to. He didn't care how loud he was as he rushed the stairs, fighting to keep his emotions in check. It wouldn't do for someone to see him in this state. It would come back to Emma, she would know the reason for his apparent distress, and he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of not having to tell him. She hadn't even been trying this past week; it didn't matter when her and Hook had started, all that mattered was that her absence this morning was because she had been with Hook. Neal wasn't dumb; he could read between the lines. Emma had spent last night with Hook. She had evidently been caught with him, likely by David this morning. That was why she was storming back to the apartment before, that's why they were shouting at each other. But what was worse, judging by Mary Margaret's response, it wasn't just some fling or one time only thing, it was real and it meant something.

For the second time in his life, he found himself wandering around in a blind, depressed and angry stupor over Emma Swan. The only problem with this occasion was that he wasn't inexcusably drunk. He wandered the streets blindly, numb to every sense. Only his anger kept him company as it burnt inside him. He couldn't feel the sun on his skin, couldn't see the brightness of the sky, couldn't hear the happiness of the small town's inhabitants. All he knew was that his soul mate, his True Love, had chosen somebody else.

It must have been hours when he returned to Granny's. Breaking through the hedge and trees he looked up to see a dash of blonde moving in the front door. He froze. He couldn't see her, couldn't hear her excuses, couldn't deal with any of it right now. He turned the other way and bolted. He had to get out of sight, had to disappear for a while.

Then he was at the docks staring at the ship that he had come on. And as he stared at the swaying vessel, his fury roared. A darkness rose in him as he moved towards it, suddenly intent on acting on his rage. But Hook was nowhere to be found on his ship. Neal didn't bother to explore the multiple decks particularly hard; Hook always knew when someone boarded his ship, he would have made his presence known if he was about. Neal departed the ship and returned to town, only this time, he kept his eyes up. He wanted to make sure that Emma did not catch him; he wanted to avoid that conversation for as long as possible. Then he saw that little sign.

The Rabbit Hole at night was a fairly reputable bar; it had good music, the patrons were decent and the ambiance was fair. During the daylight hours however, it was, as the name suggested, a hole. The people inside were not the workers blowing off some steam, or the girls in need of a night out. During the daylight hours, it housed the depressed and disappointing of Storybrooke's inhabitants. And the moment Neal opened the door he saw him. He was with his band of merry followers, and the only inhabitant of the bar – nay town – who did not dress like he lived in the 21st century.

Neal didn't stop to think about the cliché of the pirate in the bar as he advanced on his nemesis. The feeling of his fist connecting with Hook's cheek was one of the most glorious feelings of Neal's life. The feel of his teeth clashing through his cheek filled Neal with a strange sense of pride, none more so than watching his lip bleed as the man spat blood onto the floor. He would dearly have loved to have been able to hit him again, but alas, all of the men Hook was drinking with rushed to his aid. Fortunately they were all intoxicated enough for Neal to shake them off without much damage, but they still held onto him, preventing him from advancing further.

"What is it with you and taking what's not yours?" He shouted at the man who was still clutching his cheek. "How many wives have you been with? How many mothers?"

Seeing Hook in pain only heightened his perverse sense of joy at the situation. It did nothing to alleviate the fury he felt that this man was taking something else that had never been his.

"I would dearly like to defend myself, but I really don't think you're going to like the honest truth." Hook retorted quietly.

Hook could have been begging for his life, but all that Neal heard was Hook taunting him.

"Seriously? You took my mother away from me when I was a child, and now you're taking my son's? And you're not gonna say anything?" He was flabbergasted.

Their history together may have been complicated, but one thing Neal knew was that Hook never shrugged away from a fight. Whether he was the antagonizer or the defender, he always knew his place and did his darndest to be the victor. And right now, Neal was stunned. He had just loosened more than a few teeth with his fist, accused him of stealing Emma away from him, and Hook wasn't going to even attempt any form of a defense? In Neverland Neal had watched Hook fight every person who challenged him on some issue or other. In Neverland, Hook had baited him with his admission about his and Emma's 'dalliance'. It had been purposeful. Hook never did anything on a whim. What he was doing right now had Neal asking the age old proverbial question 'who are you and what have you done with Hook?'

"When I found that picture of my mother you didn't lie to me." He jabbed at the air as he spoke. "But now, you're gonna hold out on the truth? He bellowed, not caring what people heard, or thought.

So he was a big kid who had very big mommy and daddy issues, but every kid who grew up without their parents did. He could only hope that Henry, thanks to his time with Regina, would never have those problems, especially now that he had both his biological parents back in his life.

"I didn't pursue her, if that's what you're implying." Hook whispered threateningly, stepping closer to him, finally taking some form of a stand. "I hadn't seen her since we got back from Neverland."

He didn't know what Hook was playing at. His face was not that of a man taunting another. It was that of a man pleading or warning the other. It was only just a little unsettling.

"But what I will definitely say," Hook continued, "is that she's an adult, as are you. I strongly suggest you go talk to her."

Neal wanted to punch him again, wanted to remove those loose teeth. He didn't want to talk to Emma, he didn't want to hear the lies and excuses she offered him. All he wanted was to hear the lies and excuses of the man before him; wanted to hear why he was so hell bent on taking the most important women from his life.

"Oh and it would do well to remind you that she's nothing like your mother."

And just like that the unsettled feeling Neal was getting from Hook was lifted. He managed to evade the men's grasp momentarily, enough to swing his arm again. But his fist never got anywhere near its target as the men speedily had him in their grasp again. He felt his feet lose support of his body as arms dragged him away. But that wouldn't stop him. He shouted and cursed, throwing profanity after profanity at the men and at the gloating pirate before he was thrown from the bar, landing with a very heavy thud on the sidewalk. It took him a moment to get up, and when he eventually managed it he acknowledged that there were many eyes staring at him, but there was only one pair that met his and caused every ounce of rage to deflate inside of him.

He couldn't even remember why he had been looking for her that morning.

~88888~

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