A/N: As always huge thanks to the-lady-of-misthaven and zengoalie for looking this over. Again, this fic is dedicated to the every lovely o-u-a-timer who is my partner in crime while writing this thing!

We are back with Emma, folks and according to the three lovely ladies above... this one is going to hurt (but really haven't they all?!). Again, hang in there I promise you everything will be revealed in time.

Thank you so much for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews... they make my day!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own OUAT or its characters.

Five Years Ago.

She couldn't wipe the smile off of her face. Emma Jones was happy, truly happy. The last three weeks had been wonderful, a dream really. Since surprising Killian before one of his shows, they had been able to spend every moment together. Even when he was performing, she would sit at the side of the stage and watch. Between songs, Killian would often come over just to give her a kiss. It was perfect.

Even now as they walked hand in hand toward Any Given Sundae, a small ice cream parlor in downtown LA, it was as if nothing could penetrate the bubble of happiness around them. Leaning her head onto Killian's shoulder, Emma giggled as he tightened his hold on her. Life should always be like this.

They were spending the next two days in LA before continuing on to the next tour date in Nevada. Taking her summer grad school classes online definitely had its advantages, like being able to join Killian on the rest of the tour. Her boys were finally getting the big break that they deserved. It was only fitting that she was there to root them on for their first tour.

"Hey! Killian! Killian Jones! Can we get a picture Killian?"

The frantic and excited voice to the left of them seemed tempted to burst through the bubble they were in. Jerking her head toward the voice, she felt Killian tense next to her. A man was crossing the street in an attempt to get closer to them. He dressed casually and held a large camera in his hand.

"Fuck. Paparazzi." Killian's words were harsh as he pulled her closer to his body.

Emma's heart dropped as she looked at the approaching photographer.

"There goes our nice quiet evening, huh?" She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice and failed. She looked back up at him just in time to see him staring at her.

"Sorry, love." A frown crossed his features as he ran his hand through his hair.

They should have known better, planned for this. They were in LA, not Storybrooke. Even though this was a normal occurrence for Killian, she was not used to dealing with paparazzi.

In fact, they had hoped to avoid this. It was important to her, and Killian, that she stay out of the spotlight as much as possible. She wanted to lead as much of a normal life as she could. This was Killian's dream, not hers.

"Killian! Who is the woman with you? Is that your wife?" Another voice came from behind them.

"Bloody hell! Another one?" His eyes widened in disbelief.

Turning her head quickly, Emma peeked over Killian's shoulder to see another man with a camera running to catch up to them. Killian hadn't even had time to address the first photographer.

"Are you his wife? Hey! Are you Emma Jones?" A new totally different voice asked.

Her head was spinning. The pounding in her chest intensified. The entire situation was shocking. Photographers were coming from every direction. Before she knew what was happening six different men surrounded her and Killian. She wanted to run into the nearest building and hide. Seriously, they were just out for a walk, didn't they get enough interviews and photos from the press for the tour? This was supposed to be time for just her and Killian.

Instinctively, Killian pulled her into his chest and shielded her face from them. One hand cradled her head while the other wrapped around her waist. His body was shaking almost as bad as hers. He kissed her head before leaning down to place his lips next to her ear.

"It's okay, love. I'm here. You don't have to speak to them. I'll handle it. Just keep your face hidden in my chest." His voice was soothing, meaning to calm her. She immediately felt her body relax.

Nodding her head in response, Emma took a deep breath. She could feel the photographers staring at her. Their cameras flashing every several seconds as they took pictures of the two of them. She really hoped they hadn't been able to snap any that included her face. She cursed herself for not thinking to wear large sunglasses and hat and for not having Killian do the same.

Taking his hand off of her head, Killian raised his arm and signaled for them to stop taking photos. Shock flooded her system when they actually complied. His other arm was still wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her in place. Slowly, her comfort level rose.

"Please, gentlemen. I promise to answer your questions, but I need you to leave my wife out of this. If you can work with that, I can work with you."

He sounded so calm, so sincere. It dawned on her that he was made for this, made for a life in the spotlight. Her heart swelled. She shifted her head to look at his face and found a huge grin there. She knew that grin. It was the one he used when he was trying to be charming, when he was trying to get his way.

"Yes, this is my wife. We are just out to get some ice cream." She could hear the tenderness in his voice when he referred to her.

"How is the tour going?" one of the men asked.

"Great! I love being on tour and interacting with the fans. It's like a dream come true." He was still holding her firmly to his chest.

"What's your favorite song to play live?"

For the next several minutes, Emma listened as Killian answered a parade of questions. Eventually, he had each one of the paparazzi laughing and thoroughly enjoying themselves. She was amazed. He was definitely a natural.

"Would you mind giving us a picture, Killian? Maybe one with the wife?" Emma's heart sped up again.

Would it really hurt to give them one photo with the two of them in it? Maybe then they would leave them to the rest of their evening. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

Killian pulled her away from him to look her in the eyes. Once she met his gaze, she could see his eyes were full of concern. She knew, just by looking at him, that he was willing to turn them down if she was uncomfortable. That made her decision a little easier.

"Sure, but um, just one. Okay?" Her voice sounded more confident than she felt. Her hands were shaking again.

Killian's face lit up like she had just told him they could have a Transformers movie marathon. She couldn't stop herself from smiling in return. Releasing her from his hold, he allowed her to turn to face the cameras. His arm curled around her shoulders as her head leaned on his.

"You heard the lass. One photo, gentlemen, and I ask that if you ever see her walking alone you leave her be. Sound fair?"

They all nodded in response and Emma felt herself relax again. Killian had charmed them, they were practically putty in his hands.

They each took a quick photo. After, Killian shook each of their hands and posed for some individual shots. When they left, they highfived each other while walking down the street.

Killian turned and pulled her into his arms. Their lips met in a quick kiss that made her heart flutter. It was nice to be just the two of them again.

Pulling away he rested his forehead on hers and let out a relieved sigh. "That went better than I thought it would have."

He was right. Of course he was. This was just something she had to get used to. Just another part of being in love with Killian. As long as he was by her side, she was willing to make little sacrifices here and there.

Her phone was mocking her. At least, that is what it felt like. Her eyes had been drawn to it all morning. Everytime she passed the damn thing it was like it was calling out to her. She tried everything to keep from picking it up. She cleaned, did laundry, picked up around the apartment, she even organized the pantry. Now, she had nothing left to do and no reason not to do what she had been avoiding for days. She glared at her phone. It was definitely mocking her.

After the first night at Ruby's, she decided to turn it off. Killian had called her non-stop. He didn't seem to understand that if she wanted to talk to him she would have answered one of his first ten calls. Turning the phone off was easier than pressing ignore every thirty seconds.

Sighing, Emma used one hand to push herself off of her bed, while the other came to rest absently over her stomach. She walked across the room and picked up her phone. Killian had left days ago to start touring. That was how much he had always valued her place in his life. They had no problem cancelling and rescheduling almost a week's worth of shows last summer when Smee had came down with the flu, but when his marriage was ending...he still left. Hopefully, him being on tour also meant he was too busy to call and it was safe to turn her phone on again. She pressed the power button and waited.

She was alone in the apartment. Ruby had left to run some errands hours ago. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to listen to the voicemails that she was sure were on her phone.

Her stomach twisted violently when the screen came to life. Fifteen voicemails. Forty-five missed calls. Twenty unread text messages. All from Killian. She swiped the screen and pulled up her visual voicemail list. The most recent voicemail came in last night. She shook her head sadly and pressed one from the day after she left.

Love...it's me, uh Killian. I know I've called you quite a lot today….

Pressing pause on the voicemail, Emma clenched her phone to her chest. Tears welled in her eyes. She wasn't ready. Not for this. She expected him to be upset, pissed even. He had the right to be, after all. He wasn't either of those things.

The phone fell out of her hands. No, he wasn't pissed. He sounded...broken. His voice was dull, monotone, desperate even. So unlike the person she had fallen in love with. Hearing it caused pain to explode in her chest.

Killian was always so full of life, of laughter. His smile could light up a room. He was always the life of the party. The person on that voicemail couldn't have been the same person. It was impossible.

Her heart was pounding as her breathing quickened. It hit her like a ton of bricks. This was her fault. She did this to him. A choked sob escaped as her legs gave out and she fell to the floor.

Her heart ached. She pictured his laugh. Remembered his smile. She missed him, so so much. She missed just simply being with him. Missed the way he always seemed to know how to make her feel better, the way he would wrap her in his arms when she was upset. At least, that's what he would do when he actually made time for her, for them. She wished his arms were around her now, wished that things were different.

Her face contorted in anguish, arms falling listlessly to her sides. He had still left. He still went on tour, knowing everything was going on. Nothing had changed. He hadn't changed. He was still choosing his band over her, over their relationship, and he was still oblivious that it was even an issue between them. She was still here, alone. Like she always was.

Frustrated, Emma wiped the tears from her eyes furiously. It didn't matter if she missed him. Not when he clearly hadn't missed her all of the previous times he was away on tour. Unknowingly, her hand moved to rest over her stomach. She couldn't live this way anymore, especially now. If that meant she had to learn to live without him...well then, she had no other choice.

Slowly, she reached a hand out and grasped her phone. She couldn't listen to the rest of the messages. They were too painful. She might be ready to leave him, but she still loved him. She would always love him. She was just tired of being the only one to put their relationship first, of being the only one who seemed to care that they had been drifting apart.

With shaking fingers, she deleted the messages one by one. She knew there would be more. She'd just delete those as they came into.

Eventually, he would have to stop calling.

Emma slightly tilted her head and stared out of the car window as Mary Margaret continued driving up the driveway to her house, or rather Killian's house now. It felt odd being back here. She marveled at the fact that the house looked exactly the same as when she left. It was almost like nothing had happened, like she hadn't walked out on her husband a week and a half ago.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Emma?" Turning her head toward her friend, Emma gave her a sad smile. Honestly, she didn't think she would ever be ready for this. Mary Margaret reached across the center console and embraced Emma's hand reassuringly. Emma looked down to stare at their hands and resisted the urge to pull her own away. She was just trying to help, even if Emma didn't want her comfort.

"No time like the present, right?" Her words were barely loud enough for Mary Margaret to hear.

"Hey." Mary Margaret squeezed her hand again. "He's only been touring for a couple of days. We have time to wait if this is too much."

Emma glanced at the house in front of her before turning her head to meet Mary Margaret's comforting eyes. This wasn't the first time Emma was thankful to have such supportive friends.

"It's fine, Mary Margaret. Let's just get this done with." Removing her hand from Mary Margaret's hold, Emma pressed it against the car door and pushed it open.

For a moment, all Emma could do was stand by the car and stare. Who was she kidding? She was nowhere near ready to do this. She wanted to get back in the car, go back to the apartment, and hide in her bedroom. She also knew if she didn't do this now, she would continue to put it off. Time to put on a brave face, Emma.

Opening the door to the house, Emma's eyes widened in shock by the sight that lay in front of her. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest as her stomach twisted in agony. Slamming her eyes shut, her face crumpled in anguish. Her mouth dropped and she was stunned into silence. The outside of the house may have looked the same, but the inside looked like a tornado had ripped through it. Forcing her eyes open Emma placed her hand on the wall to hold herself up, behind her she heard Mary Margaret gasp.

Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. Every photo of her and Killian had been turned down. The glass coffee table was shattered. Her heart shattered in her chest. This… this was not at all what she expected to find. She heard his desperation when she attempted to listen to his voicemails. She knew that he was upset, knew that he was hurt. It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped over her head. Looking around the room, she could feel his pain.

"Emma, maybe it would be better if I just took you home. David and I can come back and get your stuff and clean up a bit." Mary Margaret put her hand on Emma's shoulder to get her attention.

Shrugging Mary Margaret's hand off her shoulder, Emma ignored her question and walked further into the room. With every step, her heart broke a little more. Before she knew what happened tears escaped her eyes. Oh, Killian, I'm so so sorry. She couldn't stop the thought from forming. She never meant to hurt him.

"Mary Margaret?" Her voice trembled as she tried to speak. Mary Margaret was next to her in seconds. "Can... can you start picking up down here? I think… I think I'm going to go get some of my stuff upstairs."

She needed to get out of this room before she broke down. Not even waiting to her friend's response, Emma turned and took the steps two at a time. Rounding the corner, she threw her back up against the wall. Surprisingly, Killian's destruction did not continue into the hallway. Her hands covered her quivering face as she bit her lip to keep the sobs from escaping.

Why was this still so hard? Why couldn't Killian just… She shook her head. Killian had been blind to their issues for far too long. She couldn't be the only one to fix their problems. Marriage was a partnership and theirs hadn't been for a long time. This had been her decision and now she had to deal with the fallout, even if it shattered her.

Resolved, Emma pushed herself off the wall, pressed her hands to her eyes to stop her tears, and made her way to their bedroom. Her suitcases still lie open, half full. The bed looked as if it hadn't been slept in. In fact, she knew it hadn't. Killian couldn't make a bed to save his life and the bed was made perfectly. Her heart thumped loudly. Where had he been sleeping?

Slowly, she walked into her closet. A small white box caught her attention immediately. Her wedding album. That was coming with her. Rising up on her toes, one hand reached for the album while the other protected her swollen stomach. Once the box was in her hand, Emma clenched it to her chest and walked back into the bedroom.

Opening the box, Emma pulled out the top photo. Her lips curled into a smile as more tears pricked her eyes. In the photo, she held Killian at arms length while he tried to smash a piece of their wedding cake in her face. Both their heads were thrown back in laughter. She ran her thumb over Killian's face. He had succeeded in getting the cake in her face, her hair, and her neck. It was worth it though, when he took her to the bathroom and proceeded to remove it all...with his mouth.

The next photo was of their first dance. Killian's arms wrapped around her waist and her rested on his chest. They both wore huge grins, eyes only for each other. They had been so happy. The photo blurred as tears flooded her vision.

She would give anything to go back to that day, to that happiness. Back to when she was confident in their love, when she knew she was the most important person in his life. Because he was the most important person in her life.

They had such plans for their life and now none of them mattered. She knew he wanted children, he always told her he wanted a large family. Both hands came to rest on her stomach. Well, none of that mattered now.

Replacing the lid on the box, Emma shoved it away. Her trembling fingers gripped the wedding ring on her left hand. Slowly she pulled it off and placed it on the floor next to the box with a heartbroken sob. Her body had finally reached its limit. Falling over to the floor, she curled her body around itself. There, alone on the floor of the bedroom they used to share, she grieved for all that she had lost.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, a smile formed on Emma's face. For the first time since leaving her and Killian's house a week ago, she felt like everything was going to work out for the best. Slamming the car door shut behind her, Emma quickly grabbed her hair and threw it in a ponytail. That felt better, too bad she hadn't thought to bring a change of clothes. Her black heels and dress were way too dressed up for a quick dinner at Granny's, but had been very appropriate for her meeting with the divorce lawyer.

After her meeting, it looked like they were all set to proceed with the divorce. Her lawyer had suggested they email the papers to Killian while on tour, but Emma refused. She could wait until he was finished and back ho- in Storybrooke. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin the tour more than she'd already had.

Her stomach grumbled as she approached the building. She hadn't eaten since yesterday and she could smell Granny's grilled cheese and onion rings, her favorite. Her hand was halfway to the door handle when a voice interrupted her.

"Mrs. Jones, can I have a moment of your time?" Her hand dropped back to her side as she pivoted to stare at the source of the voice, face twisting in confusion.

Who was this man and why did he want to talk to her? He wasn't dressed any different from the rest of the people in Storybrooke, but she was positive she had never seen him before.

"Sorry to interrupt you on your way to dinner. I'm a reporter for US Weekly…" No longer listening to what the man was saying, her heart pounded frantically in her chest.

"Fuck." The word escaped her mouth before she had time to stop it, causing the man to stop his speech and focus on her.

She stared at him with wide eyes. Her palms began to sweat. What the fuck was he doing here? Why would he come all the way from LA? Reporters never came to Storybrooke.

"What...what are you going here?" Her voice shook as she spoke.

"I was wondering if you could answer some questions about the divorce..." She held her hand up to stop him from going further.

"How dare you. This is none of your damned business." Her body trembled in anger. This was between her and Killian, not her, Killian, and the entire world. This was their private life and she didn't want or need it paraded on some magazine for everyone to see.

On top of that, they knew that Killian handled the interviews. It had been that way from the very beginning. Since the band had made it big, she had not done a single interview. Why would that change now?

Without another word, Emma breezed past the interviewer toward her car. She couldn't stay here another second. She would just have to text Ruby and let her know why she had to leave once she got in the car. Her heart dropped when she heard the footsteps behind her. Her eyes widened in disbelief. He was following her.

Pulling her keys from her purse, Emma unlocked the car and scrambled inside, slamming the door shut behind her. As soon as the door shut, she locked the car and put the transmission in reverse. Looking the the rear view mirror, Emma let out a gasp. He was standing behind her car so she couldn't leave.

Tears fell from her eyes in frustration. She just wanted to go home. Why wouldn't this guy leave her be? Killian has made it perfectly clear that he was the famous one, not her. There was a reason they lived in Storybrooke, a reason she held a normal job. Curling her hands into fists, she slammed them against the steering wheel. At the same time a flash went off next to her car.

Her features crumpled. The bastard had taken a picture. She knew that it would end up on the front page of US Weekly's next issue. When the next flash went off again, Emma realized where the interviewer was standing. He was no longer behind her car, but next to it.

Wasting no time, Emma moved her foot from the break and floored the gas. Seconds later, she pulled out of the parking lot of Granny's and onto the main road.

It took Emma only minutes to get home, speeding the way she was. Still sitting in the car, she didn't even allow herself a moment to think before she picked up her phone and and dialed Killian. Her breathing was quick and she could hear it as she waited for him to answer.

"Emma?!" His voice was like ice to the fire raging in her body. Her eyes widened and for a moment she forgot to breathe.

"Love, are you there?" He sounded desperate, her heart sank in her chest. Why did she call him? She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to hear his voice, to hear how much pain he was in. Her face crumpled in heartache. She wanted to hang up, to pretend she had never called him. She pulled the phone away from her ear and held it in front of her. Her thumb hovered over the 'end call' button, but she couldn't press it. Tears fell from her eyes. She missed him so much. A sob escaped from her and at the same time she heard Killian gasp. She knew there was no turning back now.

"Emma, I can hear you crying. Please. Talk to me." His voice drew her attention back to the phone, heart breaking at how despondent he sounded. She couldn't believe the amount of sadness in his voice. Had her leaving really affected him this much? For the last several years he'd barely batted an eyelash when he was away for weeks at a time, when he would go days without returning her calls, but now that she was leaving for good he decided to care. Why now? Why not all those times she'd told him she'd missed him, that she wished he was home more. He decided to care when it was already too late. He didn't even sound like the man she loved.

She hated what all of this was doing to him, hated that he was hurting. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that no matter what he was feeling now he would be okay in the end. She wished he were here so she could wrap her arms around him, in the same way he always did for her.

Turning her head, she stared out of the window. The truth of the matter was that he wasn't here. She didn't even know where he was at the moment, but she knew it wasn't here where he should be. That thought alone reminded her of why she called. Once again his absence in their life was working out to his advantage and she was left to pick up the pieces. She was the one getting chased down by reporters, getting attacked when she was out for dinner. While he was out traveling across the country, it was her life being interrupted. She angrily wiped the tears from her eyes. The reporters were there because of his career, not hers. He needed to take care of them, not her.

"Tell them to leave me alone. I couldn't even go out to dinner without one of them waiting. I don't care what you have to do, fix it." Her voice was strong, deliberate. She was done dealing with these people, living this life. She had done it for five years and most of the time she had done it alone. He wanted so badly to be in a band, then he could fix the problems that came with being in one.

For a moment, the line was silent. She knew he was still there. He wasn't the only one who could hear breathing.

"I'm…" She wasn't interested in hearing his excuses or his apologies.

"No, Killian. I don't want your apologies. Fix it, it's your problem." Her hand curled into a fist as her face flushed with anger.

"Please. I don't understand…" His voice cracked as she began to speak.

"Stop Killian, just fix..."

"Love," He interrupted before she finished. "If we could just talk…"

"Killian, just stop." Her heart pounded in her chest. Why wouldn't he just listen to what she was saying. She didn't want to talk to him. She wanted him to talk to the media.

"Emma, but, please… can we just."

She attempted to hold onto her anger as her name fell from his lips. "No, Killian… fix the problem…" Her voice was rising, along with her anger levels, as she tried to talk over him and ignore his pleas. "This is your fault." Being angry at him meant that she wasn't crying. She was so tired of crying.

Killian was silent after she raised her voice. Good. Maybe he got the message. A moment passed before she heard a sob over the line. All of the anger fled her body in an instant. He was crying. She had made him cry. Her eyes slowly shut. Her hand covered her mouth as her heart shattered. After what felt like hours, but was merely seconds, his dejected voice came over the phone.

"Alright. I'll talk to Malcolm."

His words should have made her feel better, but they didn't. All they did was remind her that he had given up, that she made him give up. She had taken the strongest person she had ever known and tore him down. He was crying for god sake.

"Emma?" Her name on his lips was like a beacon in the fog. It brought her out of her thoughts and back to him. "Why are you doing this?"

His voice was small, like a confused child's. Unconsciously, her hand came to rest in its place over her stomach as she shook her head. Why? There were so many reasons why, so many things that had went wrong. It was her, it was him, it was them. How had he not seen that they were broken long before now? How had he not seen that she was broken? Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She couldn't do this right now, couldn't do this ever.

"Killian, I can't right now…" Her voice trailed off.

"How about next weekend? I will be home for a day or so in between shows. We could talk then." He sounded so eager, so desperate.

Her hand tightened around the phone as she inhaled sharply. A part of her wanted to meet with him. She still loved him, she would always love him. She shook her head. She knew if she saw him her resolve would break. She would go running back into his arms and nothing would change. Killian would still be oblivious to all of their problems. Going back to him meant going back to that life, back to being forgotten and left behind. He hadn't been famous when they married, so she hadn't been prepared for all of the demands his career would put on him, on them. For so long she had felt like she didn't matter to him and if she had to feel that again, she would be broken beyond repair.

"Killian, I...I can't. Just talk to the reporters. Please." She hung up the phone before she could hear his reply.

The phone fell from her hands into her lap. A broken wail escaped her. Leaning forward, she braced her forehead against the steering wheel as the sobs racked through her.

She just wanted to be happy again.

Thank you for reading! Please leave me a review if you feel up to it. :)