The Darkest Hour
Storybrooke
Emma was gone.
The dagger remained, glistening in pride as the group stood, stock still. Regina was the first to react, jolting away from Robin as he let his arms fall limp at his sides. Mary Margret and David were next, falling against each other, tears staining their faces. Killian was last, however. He stared at the empty spot until he fell. His legs lost a battle with gravity and the hope drained out of his body as he kneeled on the ground.
Emma was gone.
It was Henry's cry that broke him though. The boy shouted for his mother, his voice becoming hoarse as he realised there was no point. Mary Margret sought his hand, pulling him into her.
The street was motionless; Henry's wrecked sobs and David's comforting words were the only sounds.
Regina scuffled forward and picked up the dagger, "You heard her."
They all looked up at the former Queen, questioning gazes breaking through the sadness of those it could. Killian's despair, however, remained.
"We'll figure out a way to take the darkness out of her." She turned to David and Mary Margret, "As heroes."
David and Mary Margret's plan was, of course, research. Robin had to leave to ensure Roland was safe, and Regina needed to get Henry away from the scene. No matter how tall the boy grew, he was still a child. That left Killian alone, eyes fixed on the spot where Emma had been.
I love you.
He heard it echo on the empty street, reflecting against the dark buildings and shining in the vacuum. It was the certainty in her voice, the courage behind the words, putting all of her strength into those last words. Emma's last words. She was the Dark One now, the crocodile's equal.
He rubbed his hook against his jacket, hating the thing, wanting to tear it and rip it and scream until Emma heard it. Until Emma came back.
A familiar jingle from one of the dwarf's shop is what stopped him. He looked over to see (Sleepy? Dopey?) looking around in confusion, obviously not aware of the events that had unfolded. But it was in his head, another familiar ring, one coming from a different shop, not too far away.
Killian stumbled to his feet, his heart beating fast as he ripped through the street, part of him (every single part of him) wanted to fall into the ground and never come out, but Emma needed him.
I love you.
Mr. Gold's pawnshop rattled as he slammed the door open, his eyes focusing on its owner, lying on the floor.
"Wake him up," he growled, kneeling next to the unconscious man.
Belle looked at him, affronted, "No."
"Emma is the Dark One. And it's his fault. Wake up the crocodile," he snarled, his expression only becoming more sour when Belle's soft tone brought harsh realities.
"I'm sorry, but you have to protect your love and I have to protect mine."
"He's a monster!"
"The dagger made him the monster," she told him, still gentle despite the anger she felt.
"The same dagger that Emma's now tied to?" he glared, hatred consuming him in a way it hadn't since Milah's death. If only he had his sword he could bring her down again, make her beg to do what he wished.
She stepped forward, "Killian-"
He backed away.
"I'm sorry, Killian."
He ignored her, leaving the shop. If the crocodile wasn't going to be able to give him answers, he would have to find someone who can.
The Enchanted Forest
Rumplestiltskin leaned against the library entrance, watching as Belle became enraptured in her favourite book ("That one again, Dearie? But you've read it twice!" he'd told her, as they drank tea together the previous day. She laughed softly, a secret of the world he didn't understand. He thought that he could like not knowing if she laughed like that, wonder and hope and happiness dancing in her eyes). He was about to turn away - he'd just wanted to check on her because he had been away for a few days - when he caught sight of a familiar smirk in the window.
He spun on his feet, quick and nimble as he'd always been, waving his hand to lock the door behind him.
"Regina," he waved his hands, giggling, "To what do I owe this," he paused, his crooked smile glinting, "pleasure?"
"I'm here about a knight," she told him, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, trying to guilt him to submission. He walked away from her, towards the main hall, a silent order to follow.
"I believe there are a hundred or so in your own castle right about now, so why don't you scurry on back there, hmm?"
"A certain knight." She rolled her eyes while he meandered around the room, "I believe you know him. Sir Gaston?"
The imp paused on his aimless journey, but didn't show any other signs of recognition.
"Can't say I do, your majesty," he mocked.
"I know that the two of you have crossed paths."
"Many people have crossed my path," he skipped towards her, leaning in as if to tell her a secret, "Doesn't mean they all live to tell the tale," he sang, wagging a scaly digit at the Queen before giggling manically.
"Oh, but I believe he did," she strutted across the room to where a single rose posed in the center of the wooden table, brushing her fingers across the petals. "In fact, I believe that he is right here. Right in this room." She smirked as she leaned down to smell the flower.
"A rose, dearie? I must say your quest for vengeance had turned you almost as mad as that hatter," he giggled.
"I need him," she demanded, "I have no more time for your games. He is important to my plans."
"He's just a knight, dearie, you can find another." He waved a hand to dismiss her. "Don't you have a certain favourite knight of yours? A huntsman, I believe?"
"You're going to turn him back," she snapped.
"Now, why would I do that?"
"Because you want to keep this girl you have up there, and I highly doubt that she'd be impressed by the Dark One in all his glory."
"So what? You want me to turn him back? I guarantee you he won't look so pretty on my table then. And of course then I'd have to kill him."
"Of course you would, because that is what the Dark One does."
"Do you have a point. Dearie?" he gritted out.
"The Dark One cannot love. You're going to have to make a choice."
He looked over at his table, and then back at the Queen, his scaly skin stretched back in a dark smile, "He annoys me less like this."
Storybrooke
David and Mary Margaret ploughed through books, the situation as familiar as every crisis except for the missing face as they looked up from their work.
"David-"
"I know." He took a step forwards so that he could wrap his arms around his distraught wife, comforting her. "She's right though, we will find a way to get the darkness out of her. Destroy it, even."
"But how? The last time we tried we hurt a child, a baby."
David rubbed a soothing hand along his wife's back. "Last time we had to make sure she was light enough to be the Saviour. To save an entire land without us. To show her the way.
This time is different. She has us, and Henry and - as much as I hate to admit it - Hook."
She sniffed, nodding into his collar.
"Maybe we should see if Belle knows anything. She lived with him for all of that time."
"No, she won't. He hid so much from her. I think-" she hesitated, pulling away from her husband. "I think we should ask Henry."
"Henry? Why?"
"He knows all of our stories better than anyone! And he's the author - was the author," she argued.
"He's a kid, Mary Margret. A kid who just lost his mother."
"I know that, but if he can help-"
"No."
"David-"
"No. He's too young."
"So was Emma, but we put her through that wardrobe anyway," she bit out angrily, turning away from her husband and towards a stack of books.
Henry sat on the barstool at Granny's, Regina cradling him as he drank his hot chocolate (with cinnamon. Emma; Henry and her. Mornings at Granny's, and all that cinnamon).
Killian watched, taking a seat in a corner booth as the morning rush went by. The small clusters of people were weak in comparison to the familiar flurry of activity and the atmosphere less cheerful than ordinarily, most affected by their Saviour's absence.
Killian stood, ready to stride towards Regina and demand her to do something; she had been the Evil Queen once, why couldn't she have let the darkness take her again?
But then Regina pulled Henry closer to her, placing a kiss on his forehead and whispering comforting words into his ear. He left the diner, the bell jangling angrily behind him.
No matter how dark she was, Emma wouldn't want him to hurt her son anymore than he already had been.
I love you.
The Enchanted Forest
"Rumplestiltskin!" Belle called, shaking the door of the library, which she had discovered was locked. "Rumple!"
"I don't believe we agreed on a nickname, dearie." He appeared behind her, lounging on a chair and looking as disinterested as usual, except for the slight glimmer of some unrecognisable feeling in his eyes.
"I don't believe we agreed on you locking me in the tower either!"
"Oh don't be dramatic, it's the smallest tower in the castle." He snickered.
"Funny," she grumbled, motioning to the door.
"I thought you would be perfectly happy up here with your books," he taunted her, obliging to the request nonetheless.
"I would. But I'm hungry and do not appreciate being held prisoner in my own home."
The look returned; a mixture of shock and … affection? No, that couldn't be right.
"Why was I locked away anyhow?"
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I had business to attend to, nothing for you to worry about."
"What kind of business?" Belle had always been interested in what he did outside of the castle (or in it, as the case may be), but he'd never shown an inclination to tell her.
Indicating for her to lead him towards the main room, he answered. "Oh, just your usual person wanting to make a deal."
"Must be an important person," she commented.
He stopped. "Why would you say that?"
She halted by his side so that she could study him. "Because almost no one comes here," She gestured to the castle as a whole, smiling up at him again.
"Yes, well-"
It should be noted that in several hundred years Rumplestiltskin had only been caught off guard a handful of times. This happened to be one of them.
Siting on his table, was Gaston, his trousers drenched from the water he'd been soaking in for months and his features disorientated.
"Gaston!" Belle cried in shock, running over to him immediately. The glass that had held him was now (understandably) cracked. She carefully helped him down from the table and away from the hazard.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, once she had cleared him of any glass and finally took her hands away from him.
"I - I don't remember. I was outside the castle and - I don't remember."
"You're freezing. Rumple, get him a towel."
"I don't have to get him anything," the imp in question said grumpily, putting all of his effort into not scorching off the hand that lay on her shoulder. "The way I see it, he's trespassing on my property." He wasn't only talking about the castle grounds, either.
When she had finally finished fussing over Gaston, Belle pulled Rumplestiltskin aside. "How long has he been that rose?"
"What rose?" he evaded, changing his mind when he saw anger spreading across her features, "Oh, that rose. Well, you see, Dearie, I didn't really keep track." He snickered.
"You can't just hurt people because you're 'the Dark One'. All of this," she looked around the castle with all of its dark objects and magical trinkets with heinous powers, "you don't need any of this. You're only dark if you don't let light in."
Storybrooke
The doors to the library swung open, revealing Killian poised proudly in their entrance. He strode to the couple's side, plucking a book from the nearest shelf.
"Now. If we're going to save Emma we're going to need to find Merlin."
"Merlin?" David turned to his wife.
"Yes. A sorcerer, I believe. The Apprentice said it would be the only way to destroy the darkness completely."
"I thought he was just a myth," Mary Margret's eyebrows knitted together in surprise.
Killian chuckled, the sound rough and harsh, "In spite of all of the myths about us?"
"Good point." David conceded.
"But how are we supposed to find him?" his wife reminded them.
"Town records would be a good place to start." The prince turned to Killian, "You start with ones from the first curse, Mary Margret and I will handle ones from the second." The pair nodded in agreement. "If Merlin's here, we'll find him."
"We need to call Emma first." Belle's voice echoed through the library. Regina followed behind her as she entered. She nodded in a silent apology to Killian as she walked to David and Mary Margaret.
"Do you think that would help?" Mary Margaret asked hopefully.
"What she means is that our Saviour is on a rampage across town and it may be in our best interests to stop her," Regina told them.
"A rampage? What sort of rampage?" Killian stepped forward in askance.
"Nothing too bad; just a dwarf in a tree and a fairy's feathers being ruffled."
"We think she's looking for the dagger," Belle interrupted.
"Well, where is the dagger?" David barked.
"I hid it in the Clock Tower," Regina answered. "I sent Henry there to get it. Robin's with him."
"So, what? We call her and demand she comes and collects her dagger?" Mary Margaret rolled her eyes.
"We can trap her with it, for now, until we come up with a better plan." Regina argued.
"Let's go then," David moved, ready to leave.
Killian stepped in front of him, shaking his head as he barred his way "If we all confront her, she won't listen to any of us. And none of us will be able to think of a plan."
"He's right. He should do this alone," David agreed, putting a hand on top of his wife's upon seeing reason and love battle across her features.
"We'll bring back Emma." Killian declared.
I love you.
Thank you to my amazing beta timeladyswan!
Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to leave a review if you have the time :).