A/N: My plea to you: don't hate Emma. She's been through a lot...

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"I love you, Emma."

It was everything that she had thought she had wanted. And after hearing the words fall from his lips, she knew that it was the one thing that she had needed- those words from those lips as they were being declared to her. But…

"Now?" In this moment? In the middle of this huge mess that she had created? When blood dripped from his lip and bruises erupted from his face? Now?

"I love you, Emma." There was truth that rung from those words. Just the way she had always knew, even without the words.

Her thoughts tried to tear her into pieces. He'd finally given her what she needed, even amidst all of the trouble surrounding them. It was possible then that…

But… Neal…

"I can't… stay. I can't fix this if I stay."

Couldn't he see that? Couldn't he understand? It was her fault. It was all her fault. This whole scenario happened because of her. So she couldn't stay there and turn her back on Neal. She had to fix this, or they would always have this over their heads. She knew that Killian was hurting- physically and emotionally. But didn't he understand that Neal was hurting just as bad, if not worse, because the two people who were supposed to mean so much to him had turned their backs on him?

So she left. Because she had to. In this moment, it was Neal who needed her. Killian… just had to understand…

.

It was those same thoughts all night long. They replayed over and over in her mind as she slept restlessly. It was useless, trying to clear her mind of all the problems that had been created solely by her. Those thoughts, as well as the lumpy couch- how had she never noticed how uncomfortable this couch really was- made for a night of tossing and turning.

Emma tightened the blanket that had fell to her waist and brought it back over her shoulders. She didn't know what time it was, but it had to be too early to be get up.

Lying there, she sensed just how alone in the world she was right then. She didn't dare ask how this had all happened- how this had all fell down in complete shambles- because she already knew the answer to that. But her thoughts, now fully awake, turned to Killian. She wondered how he was doing while she lay there miserable as ever.

Did he understand? Having time to think about everything, could he see why she did what she knew she had to do?

Emma's eyes drew to the coffee table in front of her. He hadn't called. Hadn't texted. But neither had she. So what did that mean?

Don't be angry with me….

Yes, she was alone. And all she wanted was an ending to all these problems. All she wanted was to have the happiness that had been filling her life for that short period of time. With him.

So he couldn't be angry…

"You look like you had a hell of a night."

Emma didn't expect the deep and thick voice to cut through the silence of the living room from right above her head. Her fingers clutched at the sheet at the disturbance.

Neal… Was she ready?

She flipped over from her side and onto her back to see him hovering over the top of the couch. His face was grim, eyes turned down and his mouth a straight line.

How long had he been there, watching her? Certainly before the time she had awakened. She had not heard him enter the room. And for some reason, which should have been clear, she felt her heart pick up in pace in nervousness.

"I could say the same to you," Emma murmured. Nothing was clear. Every feeling, every thought, was unknown at the moment. It was a new day, but what thoughts and ideas and feelings did it bring with it? "I wouldn't have expected you to be up bright and early." She began to sit up then, slow and careful of each movement.

"You think it was a good night's rest in there, huh?" The sarcasm was dripping from his voice as his arms folded loosely over the top of the couch, but it was the only sign he had given either way.

Sitting up wasn't good enough, Emma noted, feeling the heaviness of her heart. She rose from her seat so that she could stand opposite of him on the other side of the couch.

Neal's eyes tracked hers, still silent as ever. Maybe he was regretting coming out here at all this early in the morning. Maybe he was having second thoughts on having round three with her right now.

Round three… Was she even ready for this right now?

When they had made it back to the apartment, there hadn't been a lot that was established at that time. Emma had been grateful- in some respects- that the trip had been silent. It meant that there was no more yelling at her. There was no more verbal accusations being slung her way. And when she was already in a poor emotional state- trying to make peace with her decision to leave Killian to go home with Neal- the verbal bashing had been close to crushing her soul. But, ultimately, it wasn't about what was easiest for her. It was about being what Neal needed. Even when he couldn't see that.

But, now, as his eyes drooped in a sadness while he watched her, it looked as if maybe it wasn't going to head towards that… just yet.

"How are you feeling?" Emma asked in a whisper. She watched him just as closely as he watched her.

Neal's head turned just a bit. "Still pissed."

Hmm.

"I meant health wise," she corrected for him. "No headache? Hangover? I don't know what-"

"I'm fine." Neal cut in. His hand rubbed across his face and he stood up tall. "I'm fine when it comes to that."

There was something eating at him, Emma could see that clearly. It only made her more nervous. She had always been able to read him. It wasn't so easy in this moment. Maybe it was because of her own issues and fears that were shadowing those abilities.

"So what is it then? What do you want?" And maybe it came out a little harsh. There may have been something building up in him right before her, but there was something building up inside of her as well.

"What do-"

"You came in here for a reason," Emma cut in. This was going to go the way she needed it to go. "You didn't have anything to say to me last night. Now that you've had time to digest everything, I'm guessing that has changed."

And fear began to creep up through her again. She wasn't sure if she was ready for the accusation. But she was wide awake now and ready to have this out in the open.

"I came in here because…" Neal took a step back from the couch, moving back and taking the full view of her in. "I wanted to see how you were."

It was in his eyes, a sense of remorse. But Emma wasn't sure if it was there just because she wanted it to be there.

"It wasn't a bad dream, you know," she whispered softly. "Everything that you think happened yesterday really did happen."

His smile was anything but genuine. "You think that I don't know that?"

"You hurt Killian." The memory of what she had walked in on came to Emma all of a sudden. Killian had done nothing but stand there and take the punches that Neal had doled out. And she knew the reason for it.

"I only paid him back for the hurt that he caused me," Neal said with a roll of his eyes.

"So you're proud of what you did?" The thought of that only hurt, causing a physical pain that ran deep through her body.

Neal's gaze found hers again, cold and hard.

"Are you proud of what you did?"

And the only thing that Emma could do was stare right back at him. She knew she deserved it. She wouldn't go so far as to say Killian deserved what happened to him, but the coldness of Neal's stare was warranted.

Emma swallowed the dryness of her throat as she blinked at him from across the couch.

"I'm not proud of how I handled the situation," she finally answered. "This was all because of me. It's my fault that Killian lost his best friend. It's my fault that you lost your best friend and your girlfriend."

There was a glint of something in those eyes now. Neal licked his lips and stumbled closer to her.

"You'd actually do that, wouldn't you, Emma?" It was dark and hinted to the sadness of the whole situation.

She didn't know exactly what he meant by that, so her eyes narrowed on his.

"You'd choose Killian. Over me. You'd actually want to be with him over me."

And her heart sped up even more than before.

"I am with Killian, Neal." It was soft. It was firm. It left no room for confusion. "And it's been that way for a while now." She shook her head slowly. "I made my choice a long time ago. But it's all my fault that I didn't come clean with you."

She watched as he stepped back, his head dipped down and his hands coming together to form a tight ball.

"You know what you are, Emma?" Neal shook his head then, but didn't look back at her.

"I can imagine," she said softly. All her fault. "I'm sorry, Neal. I didn't want… to hurt you. Nothing that I did was done carelessly or without thought."

His mocking laugh filled the air then, and he finally looked back at her.

"You're a…"

"I'm sure I'd deserve whatever is about to come out of your mouth, but please don't, Neal," Emma said quickly. There was a bit of queasiness taking over her at just the thought of the word he was so close to using.

"And I owe you to spare your thoughts and feelings?" His face scrunched up into question and disbelief.

"You don't owe me anything. I… just wish… that you could see it from my point of view."

"Why did you come back with me if you had already made your decision to be with him and not me?" Neal asked, quickly switching the topic.

Emma blinked at the change, her mind trying to follow his train of thought.

"You would have never have taken me back… after everything. So why are you reacting like this?"

"Are you sure?" And he was moving then, coming from behind the couch and towards her.

She didn't know what his intentions were. It made her nervous to try to define them at the moment.

"I'm sure."

He was close to her now, only some inches away. And it only made the nervousness grow. Could she have been wrong? No…

"Why'd you come back? With me?" he asked her again. This time, he was staring intently into her eyes, holding her gaze strong.

"I brought you home, Neal," she finally answered, "because it was the right thing to do. I wasn't going to let you wander around and end up God knows where. And if Killian had been thinking straight, then he would have known that that was the only thing to do."

He looked skeptical, his eyes finding the ceiling and holding there.

Two years, and it had meant something.

Emma felt that deep-rooted hurt grow even stronger. It was there- raw as ever- that feeling of wrongdoing. And there was no way she could feel any worse in that moment.

"Neal… I know it isn't… easy…"

"Do you think that any of this is easy, Emma?" He still didn't look at her. "Do you think that letting you go and you being with … Killian is easy to do? You don't think that a part of me wants to be able to ignore everything that happened yesterday and just go back to the way it was?"

Emma watched him closely, not surprised, but a bit intrigued. She may not have wanted it to go exactly like that, but if he could not be upset with her? Yes, there was a part of her that wanted it desperately.

She took a small step back, increasing the amount of space between them.

"I loved you."

She guessed that sharing his sentiment wasn't the right thing to do in this situation.

"Everything I did was for us," Neal continued, moving closer to her once again. "Everything. I wanted to marry you, Emma. And this is what you do to not only me, but to us? You say you fell in love with my best friend? Well you know what that makes you, Emma? I mean, what's the point in not coming right out and saying it? You're a bitch, Emma. A total bitch. And I hope you get everything you deserve."

The words stung just as much as if he'd put his hands to her. She could do nothing but watch, in total dismay, as he turned his back on her and walked away. The metaphor was not lost on her as her squeezed in pain.

"I want you out of my apartment by the time I get off work tonight," he muttered on his way out of the living room. "I'll be picking up some overtime, if that helps any. I don't want any trace of you being here when I get back."

She guessed the pain could be increased, because that pain in her heart had grown at least tenfold.

It wasn't how Emma had wanted to end things with him, but the finality of his words were there. There was not going to be anything else she would be able to do to fix the situation.

As far as Neal was concerned, it was over. And, with the steady thrum of her heart, she knew it was something that she had to let go as well.

I want you out…

I don't want any trace of you…

It wasn't supposed to end like this. But, nevertheless, it was now over.