Disclaimer — Once Upon a Time is the property of ABC and Horowitz/Kitsis. I make no profit, monetary or otherwise, from this exercise in creativity.
Author's Note — This little ficlet was something of a challenge to myself to see if I could actually manage to NOT take a whole month to write a few hundred words. I managed it in two or three days, so it's an improvement, at least. I based this fic off of images from the new promo for "The Doctor" that aired during ABC's Thursday primetime programming, so if that violates your policy on spoiler consumption, please do not read any further.
No matter how hot rage burns within her — how much it makes her hurt, how much it consumes her until she is willing to do anything to sate it, even if her reprieve will only last for a fraction of a second — there is always the briefest of pauses, an unavoidable moment of weakness, before Regina moves in for the kill. It's a slight moment of hesitation, hidden in the way she forces a smile to her lips before telling the huntsman the name of his mark, or the silent good-bye that she whispers in her head before ending the life of the man who gave her hers. She hates herself for it, but she cannot escape it; that little bit of weakness still clings to her soul, despite the raging flames of wrath that have made ashes of every other piece of the girl she used to be.
So it's curious, then, that when she kills Daniel, she does it swiftly and easily, with no hesitation whatsoever. Her gaze flits from Henry's wide, frightened eyes to the strong hands braced against his jaw, muscles quivering with the power of death, and in a single instant, a thousand memories flood her mind: the grim line of Henry's mouth as he tells her that he hates her; the warmth of the sun on her face as she and Daniel kiss beneath a canopy of lush green leaves on Firefly Hill; the inescapable nausea after she wakes from a vividly beautiful dream of a life with the two men she loves most by her side. And even as she watches their lives flash before her eyes, there is no decision to make.
Regina reaches over Henry's head and thrusts her hand straight into Daniel's chest, grappling only for a second before wrenching out the ruby red heart — not his heart, not originally; she knows all too well what happened to that one, but still — and squeezes until there is nothing but dust and her own blood trickling from her clenched fist to the dirty stable floor.
But maybe, she thinks as she watches Daniel crumble for the second time — the final time, because she cannot go through this again — and instead cares only about Henry, about checking every inch of his body for injuries and drying the tears from his cheeks, it's not that curious at all. She gathers him into her arms, taking no pleasure from the way that he validates her presence in his life as he sobs Mommy, Mommy, over and over again, and tells him that everything is all right now. And she knows that it's not, because she's lost Daniel again, and because tomorrow Henry will remember that he hates her, blaming her for the body and the hearts and everything else, but it doesn't matter.
Daniel is dead, but Henry lives, and finally, something in Regina's life has gone right.