heyo, so bc the whole family roadtrip to hell is going to be a ridiculous arc, here's a fun little drabble where things go the way i want them and not the patented ouat way.

regina and emma are my fave brotp (if not otp sometimes) so here's some good old fashioned 'i murdered somebody pls help me hide the body/open the gates of hell'

this was written to be comical and snippy, so apologies if it goes too fast. i might develop it more later but probably not. ehhh.

hope you enjoy. i don't own shit.

She hears the dagger call to her and holy fucking shit is she angry, leather boots making thunderclaps against the pavement as Emma Swan marches toward the direction of the whispers. It leads her, unsurprisingly, to the quaint pawn shop that just happens to be the source of all evil in this town.

"Really need to get a better lock for that door," Rumplestiltskin sighs as she enters, guns blazing. "What can I help you with, Miss Swan?"

"I can hear the dagger," she growls, hands braced on the counter as the sonofabitch explains how her True fucking Love died for nothing. She killed Killian and Rumple got back all of his power, everything he ever wanted. If spending a couple months as the Dark One meant anything, it was that Emma Swan was capable of very many things.

Killing Rumplestiltskin happened to be one of them.

"I did something bad. Well, considering a lot, you could say it's a good thing, but nevermind that. I need your assistance."

"Hello to you as well, Miss Swan."

"I may or may not have killed Rumple. With the dagger. I may or may not be the Dark One again."

"You're not the Dark One, or else you'd be back in the Enchanted Forest, all robes and under eye circles." Regina's hands were at her hips, the mayor's power stance familiar. "What exactly happened?"

After poofing her way into the shop, Regina found the Saviour on the floor next to a very dead Rumplestiltskin, elbows resting on her knees as she looked at a blank dagger. The serpentine blade had, as Emma explained, gone through the sorcerer's heart, leaked the dark magic that had been the beginning of it all, and very pointedly avoided going into Emma. Rumplestiltskin's name had dissolved off of the knife, but Emma's didn't replace it.

"It didn't want me. I could hear it talking. When it touched my skin it hissed and popped, then went back into the dagger. It's like that time your mother tried to take my heart. True Love bullshit, no doubt. Do you think it's dormant?"

"Nothing is dormant when it comes to that kind of power," Regina sighed, crouching down beside the dead man. "I don't think murder is the best way to clean your slate after the last few weeks, Emma."

"It's not his resurrection I'm interested in, Regina."

Regina rolled her eyes, pinching her nose bridge.

"True Love bullshit, indeed," she grumbled.

"You ready?" Regina asks, watching as Emma steadies the body that is currently thrown across her shoulder.

"Yes. No. Maybe," Emma pinked, eyeing Regina nervously. "It's not exactly a jolly trip to New York."

The witch sighed, longing deeply for her bed and the sweet lack of a Charming. She stepped toward the lake, bending to dip the dagger into the water, a faint shimmer telling her that Charon had been called. She looked blankly at the blade for a long moment before pulling back and hurtling it into the depths.

"Dramatic, much?" Emma noted, searching the mists for the boat.

"You're the one going full Orpheus, Saviour."

"Fair," Emma laughed, turning to face Regina. "Tell Henry I'm sorry, for not saying goodbye. And to do his homework."

"I will," Regina smiled warmly. She was peeved that the cleanup had been left to her, as there was no doubt an awkward meeting at the loft in her future where she explained just exactly how she led Emma into hell. But, True Love was True Love. And there was the whole nonsense where Emma sacrificed her entire being for Regina, so the queen could let this one slide. "Say hi to Captain Guyliner for me."

"I will," Emma replied wistfully, the ferryman finally in sight. "Thank you, Regina."

"Always, Emma." She watched as Emma stepped into the water, boots splashing unceremoniously as she waded out to Charon's boat. "Good luck."

"Hades has been waiting for that one for some time now," the ferryman smirked, casting a glance at Rumple.

Emma snorted.

"Yeah, well, merry fucking Christmas."