Disclaimer: I do not own either Once Upon a Time or "The Devil Within" by Digital Daggers.
A/N: I wasn't planning to write this fic, it kinda wrote itself. It's my first M ever, I am not even convinced it deserves this rating. But I'm paranaoid, so...
Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Left alone with her dark heart, facing her loneliness, deprived of the possibility for revenge, denied affection from any human being, she was utterly empty. All she was left with was pain. Pain through all her life, pain destroying her heart piece by piece, pain poisoning her mind until there was nothing more to destroy, nothing more to poison. Pain always and forever – her only companion. Her only friend, inseparable throughout all her life.
Dark was the night they left her for good. She would get no more chance to prove she had changed, no more opportunity to truly become the part of their lovely family. Who even told them she ever wanted to be the part of it? She couldn't care less about them. Only one person warmed her heart. Only for Henry it was still beating or at least pretending. But now her son was gone as well. Disappointment and dismay in those young eyes told her what they, the noble saviors, had always known: You are really as dark as it seems.
Yes, maybe she was. Darkness had wrapped her heart so tightly it made her follow her darkest desires. It closed the door to any future. It closed the door to her son's heart, this time for good. Henry was gone. Everyone and everything was gone. Except for her own private darkness.
Dark was the night she understood someone else was almost as broken as she was. His heart wasn't so dark as hers, at least not yet. He suffered. He was lonely, deprived of his revenge, denied affection. She was observing him for quite a while until she followed him. Why? She didn't know. And she never found out.
I will keep quiet
You won't even know I'm here
You won't suspect a thing
You won't see me in the mirror
She followed him through the abandoned and empty streets of Storybrooke, while the good part of the city was feasting and celebrating some unimportant victory. She saw his every move, heard his every word, suspected every future action. Hidden in the darkness of her magic, invisible, she was always right behind him. He couldn't see her. He didn't know.
She followed him to the pubs where he was drinking almost to death, hitting on everyone who was of opposite sex, to no avail; to the darkest places of the city, almost as dark as she was, where he was apparently looking for trouble he couldn't find; to his ship, a vast and empty object, almost as lonely as he was. She saw how he was lying long hours on his bunk, staring at the ceiling. She could almost feel his pain. She had never met anyone whose pain could be compared to her own. Never before him.
She followed him once too often. She could be invisible, but that didn't mean she was incorporeal. Wooden deck creaked underneath her foot and she found herself pinned to the quarter-deck. She felt his breath on her face. And she was no longer invisible.
But I crept into your heart
You can't make me disappear
Till I make you
Angry stares were all they could gave each other that night. He asked her, far from politely, what she was doing on his ship; she didn't answer. So he pushed her away and disappeared in the gloom of Jolly Roger's interior. And she stayed where she was for few more minutes, admiring how greatly he stank with pain and wondering if she stank the same way. But there was no one who could answer her.
She was there the next night, this time without the spell. He didn't hesitate to speak his mind, which wasn't socially correct again. She didn't say a word until he suggested a drink. They were drinking the whole night, almost without any words, hidden safely in the darkness of his ship. He had much alcohol there, practically endless supplies.
The next night they talked about hatred. Not the way everyone hated them, but the way they despised everyone. She was right: his heart was dark, but not as much as hers. She had to check how deeply shattered it was.
Dark was the night she took advantage of his momentary thoughtfulness and immobilized him with a spell. She sat next to him and, ignoring the wave of curses that came from his mouth, literally touched his heart. He groaned, but she didn't care; she felt a strong, beating thing underneath her fingers. Strong thing, stubbornly fulfilling its duties even though the owner didn't want it; strong, but marked with scars, scars so deep it brought a wild smile of satisfaction to her lips. He was just as broken as she was. She withdrew her hand, now bloody and sticky, and the spell. But she didn't gave him time to throw her onto the floor, closing his mouth with a kiss, the most passionate one she had in years. His hand wandered to her back and in the next moment she was sitting on his lap, her nails digging into the skin of his neck. She bit his lower lip until she felt the bitter taste of his blood on her tongue. In the next moment her back painfully hit the floor and he took the initiative. His lips found hers, tongues met each other in the journeys to their interiors. But he quickly abandoned her mouth and traced her neck with licks and kisses; his fingers found themselves busy unbuttoning her jacket. It wasn't a quick process with only one hand to use, but she couldn't care less. She tried to regain the control, but he pinned her to the floor so hard she moaned with pain and pleasure. Her jacket landed in the far corner of the cabin. Bare skin of her shoulders was suddenly exposed to a freezing wind that was coming through the open door, but she didn't experience cold: his hard body pressed against her own gave her nothing but growing warmth. Something freezing cold suddenly touched her neck; she opened her eyes, realizing she even didn't know she had closed them, and looked at him. His stare didn't leave her irises, while his hook wandered through the skin of her neck. Even the slightest touch of it was making her shudder. He led it to the place where her heart was bumping so loudly it was the only sound they could hear, except for their heavy breaths. He let it stay there, making her aware that he could kill her in the blink of an eye and she wouldn't even have time to protect herself with magic. Yes, maybe she was risking her life there; maybe her safety was at stake; but she couldn't care less. It was bloody exciting. She needed to feel him in every possible way, right now. If he doesn't choose to kill her, of course.
He didn't. He slightly shifted his hook left and tore her blouse with one quick movement. The front of her bra shared the fate of her shirt. A second later she was lying in front of him completely naked, while he was still fully dressed. She could undress him with one spell, but it didn't seem right to cheat during sex. Besides, she derived some unexpected pleasure from this side shifting. For the first time in many, many years she felt completely out of control. And she loved it.
Dark was the night she experienced the best sex in her entire life. Some time passed before he was undressed as well; he used this time to discover every inch of her body with his lips and fingers, bringing her pleasure too many times to count. He then let her free him from his clothes. And after that nothing could stop her from taking what she wanted. But not once during that long night did she regain control. Maybe that was why she loved it so much. He wasn't Graham, an obedient toy. He was an equal partner, one of a kind.
She was gone in the morning.
I made myself at home
In the cobwebs and the lies
I'm learning all your tricks
She returned the next night already with a decision in her mind. He may have been an equal partner in sex, but to make him a really equal partner in crime as well she had to darken his heart, so it would be as dark as hers. She had to show him her methods, tricks, lies. She had to show him what it meant to be truly evil.
That night he came back to the ship from some pub in the docks, from which local sailors had thrown him away. She didn't ask about the reason. She only needed to see his anger, make him enjoy it and the thought of revenge, just like she used to do. Small vendettas could cover the fact they couldn't get the real ones. For a moment, at least.
Dark was the night she led him off his ship and showed him how easily he could find his small vendetta. One snap of her fingers and all of the vessels, large and tiny, big and small, disappeared in flames. She burnt his accusers' ships and they were on fire the whole night until there was nothing but ashes. No one could quench the flames, even though they tried hard. She watched him throughout the whole process. He may have blinked at the beginning, but it was only the first moment, when his darkness was fighting with the remains of his goodness. He stood by her side the whole night, watching them burning with growing smile on his lips. It was a very successful first step.
They returned to the Jolly Roger and she told him the story of evilness. The story told from the devil himself – or rather herself – from her own perspectives and points of views. He enjoyed it, she could say that just by looking at him. She got carried away by the moment and told him they could have the world at their feet. He was silent for few minutes, staring at the table in the cabin they were in. When he lifted his head, she saw the answer in his eyes.
From that moment they truly became creatures of the night. Plotting, learning and teaching, sleeping or having sex during the day; in the night, they transferred into birds of prey. The city was theirs; no one safe, except for her son's relations, no secret undiscovered, no dirts still veiled. They were feared and hatred, just like always; but this time they didn't care. It was always better to work with someone else. They ruled the night: the tutor and the student. There was no mercy when it came to the teacher showing her pupil how to be truly evil; how to kill with no one knowing, how to get what they wanted, how to be really powerful. Not only Storybrooke was endangered - they both could leave the city and be back at any time. No curse restraints, no limitations. Just free will and imagination in cruelty.
It went on until the moment she believed there were no unnecessary remains in his heart. Now, he was equal. Now, they could change the rules.
I can hurt you from inside
Oh I made myself a promise
You would never see me cry
Till I make you
She didn't change them, though. One day she didn't find him by her side, where he was supposed to be. She left the ship and started looking for him. Firstly without suspicions; she wanted to convince herself she was able to trust someone else than her own ego. She cast a spell of invisibility – it was a full day and she, as a nocturnal predator, needed to stay unnoticed.
She found him quite quickly. There he was, leaning against a wall of some shop, with his characteristic smirk, talking to Emma. He was talking with Emma. And smiling in the same moment. Swan was obviously lecturing him about something. And he didn't seem to be bothered by that. That annoying, constant destroyer of her life put the hand on his shoulder. And he nodded, understanding written in his eyes.
She didn't know what it was about; she was standing too far away to hear the words. But it didn't matter. Talking with Emma in a daylight, not telling her about this whole secret meeting meant betrayal. And she wasn't merciful when it came to treason. To be specific, she didn't tolerate it.
Dark was the night she came back to her house, which had been empty for long enough to become one dusty, dim place without even a shade of homy warmth. She tried to explain to herself that what she had witnessed was nothing important; she tried so hard to explain to her subconsciousness it was only paranoia; but she failed. The grain of doubt and suspicion had already been planted. It could only grow further, even without her knowledge.
She slid down the wall, hiding her face in her hands. Despite the experience, despite everything she had promised herself, she did it again. She trusted someone, even though she shouldn't have. And she was going to end up hurt, as always. Why was she making the same mistake all over again? What was so special about him that made her trust him, in spite of everything? Maybe the fact that he was different from any other man she had ever met. Maybe the fact they were similar and she had discovered it in the darkest moments of loneliness and in the desperate need for a company. Maybe the fact her heart was clearly reacting every time she saw him, talked with him, touched him. Was there a worse thing for human beings than their own heart? She thought her mother was very clever woman to found it out so soon. Soon enough to avoid disappointments, heartbreaks, the pain. Maybe also soon enough to escape the feelings, but she wasn't sure about it. Why wasn't she as intelligent as her mother?
She straightened up suddenly, cutting her thoughts in the middle. She was going to make sure whether he was on her side or not, playing his own freaking game of shadows, lies and tricks. If he was on her side – fine, but if he wasn't... She would make sure he will pay for it.
I will be here
When you think you're all alone
Seeping through the cracks
She came back to the ship and found him in the wardroom. He was waiting for her and seemed content to see her. He asked where she had been with a worried tone, greeting her with a kiss. She smiled, saying she had to take care of something. She couldn't help but feel like his every word was deeply soaked in hypocrisy and deception. She asked him what he had been doing all the morning. He wanted to lie, she could say that just by looking at him, but something in her made him stop and rethink it. He watched her without a single word, apparently feeling the change in her attitude. And she had used to be such a good actor...
He said he was only talking with Emma. Did this only sound like the most false word she had heard in the long time or maybe she was simply oversensitive? He said: "just drop it". And she agreed, although they both knew all to well she wasn't able to "just drop it".
She saw him when he was convinced she couldn't. In such moments he was like an open book for someone so cunning as she was. She saw regrets, battles with thoughts, pain, reverie. What was he thinking about? What game was he playing in? She didn't know and it frustrated her. She couldn't figure him out. He was a riddle with so many layers that whenever she uncovered one of them, suddenly few more were arising. When they were together she saw in his eyes something that resembled a true feeling, feeling for her; but when she was watching him when he thought he was alone, she no longer knew what to believe in.
They continued their escapades, but with every single one some knowledge grew in her, knowledge that was so obvious she felt humiliated and stupid she hadn't noticed that earlier. His heart wasn't as dark as hers and it couldn't be. Remains were too strong. She may have won a battle or two, but she was losing a war. He wasn't her. And he would never be. Maybe that's why she had fallen for him. Because she couldn't change him, despite her biggest efforts. And in spite of her attempts to read his mind he remained a mystery. One big riddle with no possibility to be unveiled. That was the impermissible truth.
I'm the poison in your bones
My love is your disease
I won't let it set you free
Till I break you
She quickly became lost in her attempts to uncover his mysteries. Soaked in distrust and conviction her feelings were at stake, she was becoming more bitter with every passing day. Her precariousness only grew when she witnessed his conversation with Henry. Out of all people he was talking exactly with Henry? She couldn't get it. She tried to understand his actions in many possible ways until there were only two paths to follow: alcohol and magic. There would be no return once she uses magic. That was the most ultimate of all the choices she could make. So she decided to give booze the chance.
Dark was the night she tried to get him drunk, but to no avail. He could hold his liquor very well as befits a pirate. And after few bottles he knew what she was up to. "Can't you just believe I would do nothing that wouldn't be for your benefit?" he asked, this disarming smile of his appearing. She smiled almost tearfully and really, really wanted to say "yes, I can". But she couldn't. Her heart was too damaged to believe such things. So to avoid lying, she answered in another way: she pushed him onto the wall and gave him a kiss that reflected her feelings. For this one last night she needed to forget about her suspicions; she wanted to feel alive one more time, before she would be forced to use magic against him. And she hadn't felt so deeply alive as during the nights they were sharing for ages. But that wasn't exactly the truth. Not "for ages". Never before had she felt so deeply alive. So for this one night she closed her brain and shut down every mistrustful thought that had ever crossed her mind. She was his and he was hers again, just like during the very first night they shared. No surface, vertical or horizontal, was safe from the heat of their warmed up bodies. In the end they reached the bunk.
There was not much of the night left when they became too tired to even think. She didn't fall asleep, watching him until the breaking of the day. Then, with heavy heart, she leant over him and whispered few words above his ear. That way she would get access to his thoughts. But, to her biggest surprise, nothing happened. "You just couldn't let go, could you?" She heard his whisper and realized he was waiting for her to do what she had just done.
"I never let go."
The words escaped her mouth before she even realised it. She needed to hear the whole truth in that very moment. And she was going to do whatever it takes to get it. But she didn't have to. He was going to give it to her just like that.
"Do you know that feeling when you suddenly realise any revenge won't replace the one you desired for your whole life? And no matter how many bad deeds you would do, it shall never be enough. You can't kill emptiness by killing."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, I think you exactly know what I mean. So I thought – we should do something with it, because your methods are not enough and will never be. I recalled some spell or potion I heard about a long time ago that would deal with our emptiness once and for all."
"Believe me, if there was such a spell, I would know about it."
"Well, obviously you don't know everything about magic. Not as much as the Dark One, at least."
"You went to Rumpelstiltskin?"
"Are you insane? I'm not a suicide! I went to Emma and she went to the Crocodile. He apparently has a weak spot for her. He knew what I was talking about."
"And what were you talking about exactly?"
"A spell that would erase our desire for revenge. It wouldn't change the past, but it would make us forget about all this hate. You would get your son back."
"And everyone else would forget about 'all this hate' as well?"
"No."
"Are you stupid enough to believe they won't make us remember one day?"
"They promised they won't."
"They promised?! So you are stupid enough. What the hell were you thinking? Cooperating with them? That's just what they wanted – to get rid of me! I would never suspect you could be on the bright side."
"You thought right, love, because I am not on the bright side. I'm only using it to get what I want. Don't you get it? Clean charts – isn't it what you wanted? Isn't it what we need?"
"Don't overuse this 'we'. 'We' obviously don't want the same thing."
"We do, you just have to open your eyes. We can use this spell and run away from all of this. From Storybrooke. Without hearts full of regrets, disappointments and vendettas. Free at last. Can't you see it? This way they would never make us remember."
"So you even prepared a back-up plan?"
"Would I be myself if I didn't?"
"That's bullshit. Who made you do this? Who gave you this idea?"
"I told you, no one."
"Yes, sure, and I will just believe that. Tell your sweet friends they can plot as much as they want behind my back. And I will always be one step ahead."
I tried to be the lover to your nightmare
Look what you made of me
Now I'm the heavy burden that you can't bear
She ran out from the ship without looking back. She tried hard to hold back tears, but it turned out to be impossible. Warm, salty drops ran down her cheeks and she could do nothing to stop them. Once again she felt betrayed, hurt and deeply, utterly alone. He cooperated with them. With them. Was there a worse crime to commit?
She shut out the thought he could be right. Their existences were based on hatred and revenge. Who was she trying to fool? There was no way they could just let go of it and live without it. There was no possible way. And he was right about her dreams to have a clean chart. She had been trying to make up to everybody when Emma and Mary Margaret had been in the Enchanted Forest. She had been trying to start over. How good had it ended?
She wanted nothing more than to be free. Free of the burden that was hanging above her and making it so hard to live among those people. But she knew all to well it was impossible. They were immune to changes, weren't they? Or maybe not 'they'. Just 'she'. She believed the evil chill in her heart was one of the main factors of her being; without it she just wouldn't be herself anymore, but some strange person she didn't know.
Maybe... maybe this 'strange person' would be the one that had started dying the night her mother had killed Daniel and had finished the agony the night she had understood the attempts to bring her loved one back to life had fallen through? Didn't she want to come back to being that person? To be as innocent, as pure, as... good? The truth was, she wanted it badly. But there was no possibility to come back to what had been long forgotten. No 'clean chart' would make all her deeds go away; no 'clean chart' would make her heart heal.
Some part of her desired to let him take the "cure" and sail with him far, far away, as far as it was possible, giving him the 'clean chart' he needed. But... what about Henry? Her son may have ultimately rejected her, but will always be her son. She had to be near her only relative, even if that relative no longer wanted to have anything to do with her.
Besides... why was she even thinking like that? What mattered was that he had betrayed her. He had been playing his own game from the beginning. She wasn't exactly sure when this "from the beginning" had started, but that didn't matter. He was an impostor. Playing on her emotions, pretending just to get what he wanted. What punishment would be appropriate for something like that if not the ultimate one?
She found herself in her home after a moment, not knowing how she got there. Before realising the punishment, she had to find out something about that spell. She dug her books, her vault, her everything, but found nothing. She couldn't ask anyone. So she broke into Gold's shop at night. And found it in one of Rumpelstiltskin's books. It was just as he had told her: it would erase their hatred and the desire for revenge. But he hadn't told her about the ingredients necessary to conduct the spell. The person who would be under the influence of it had to experience all kinds of true, deep feelings just before taking advantage of magic. Hatred. Anxiety. Anger. Sadness. Despair. Joy. Happiness. Love. She closed the book loudly. So, after all, he wasn't playing on her emotions, because he had to feel all of these things as well if he wanted to use that spell. It was real. Everything was real.
She didn't know what to think or what to do anymore. And she had nothing but an empty head to ask for advice.
The next night she went back to the ship and found him waiting for her. She disappointed him by saying that she didn't change her mind; that she still didn't understand why. She took a step backward when he stood up and wanted to take her hands into his. His features hardened, but he tried to explain to her why once again. Once again, she wasn't able to believe him. Once again, she ran out without looking back.
She paid him a visit the next night, and the night after the next, and the night after... She didn't speak and neither did he. Few nights later he learned to ignore her. And she was just observing his preparation for the journey in the same time constantly processing some things he had almost shouted the night she had come back for a moment just to get another useless explanation.
Look what you made of me
Look what you made of me
I'll make you see
We can be fixed. Could they? Could they really be fixed, after everything they had done? She doubted it. They were too damaged to even try making repairs. They couldn't be fixed. She couldn't be fixed. And maybe she didn't want to. He seemed to want to repair the only thing in her that wasn't actually broken. No way she would let him do that.
What can you know about being tired of all this evilness? She knew what he was talking about. He was like... four times older than her. Maybe he knew what he was talking about as well. Maybe after all those years devoted to one single aim nothing was bringing happiness anymore. Maybe life became too void and grey to live. But her life was like that already: why did he think he had known better? She was the queen. She got the right to decide. The final word was always hers. And nothing could change that.
Roam with me. Especially those words didn't want to leave her alone. She had them on a constant reply, hearing desperation in his voice, seeing hope in his eyes. And knowing her answer all too well. Her no had met the change in his expression, so sudden for a moment she had thought she had made a mistake. But only for a moment. Roam with him? What was he thinking? She wasn't born to live on the ship and sail to gods know where. She was born to be the queen. And she was made to be evil. Made, not born, but it didn't make a difference. After too many years she couldn't change what had been only made. How could she be evil in a boat? It was ridiculous.
It was ridiculous, but every day she was sliding down the wall in her home, thinking, crying and despairing deeply in her heart. She just wanted to rip her own heart out, so she wouldn't feel this pain anymore. But she couldn't do that. She wasn't her mother. She was destined to live with such a pain forever.
You'll never know what hit you
Won't see me closing in
I'm gonna make you suffer
Dark was the night she decided she had to do something else than thinking about her own feelings. Something she was really good at. And she was really good at being evil. In fact, it was the only thing she was good at. She didn't know how to love anymore; she didn't know compromise; she didn't know the power of sacrifice. She sometimes felt her knowledge concerning feelings had died alongside Daniel. And the evilness? Well, she was the master of it.
She dried her eyes and changed the way of thinking. She couldn't just let him go, could she? After everything that had happened... he deserved a punishment after all. He had been lying to her for so long that she just couldn't let it fall into oblivion. She never let anything go away. She won't make an exception this time.
He had made her feel all those feelings she hadn't felt in years. He had given her a false hope that she could really live once again. He had made her believe she could have someone by her side without giving up her power. And for all that he really deserved a punishment. The real one. She was going to make him suffer.
She crept into his ship without any problem. As during few previous nights, she was watching him carefully, but this time with completely different intentions. Unasked, her brain showed her the display of the events from the night she had killed Graham. It had been so easy to squeeze sheriff's heart and ultimately kill the man, as easy as ripping the huntsman's heart out twenty eight years before. The situation was similar now, wasn't it? It shouldn't be hard to kill him and turn him into dust.
But the longer she watched him, the more parts of her being were opposing her brain's plan. It had been easy to kill Graham because she had never felt anything real or serious for the sheriff; in this case the current situation was completely different.
So she watched him for seconds, minutes, hours and couldn't even move. Slowly her anger and disappointment started fading away until she couldn't just stand there for even a second longer. One false move and she would change her mind about this whole idea of his. So she fled and returned home, not knowing at all what was going on with her.
This Hell you put me in
I'm underneath your skin
The devil within
Get a grip on yourself, she was thinking angrily all over again, circling her front hall. They named you the Evil Queen for a reason. Behave like her. It was a good piece of advice, but completely useless.
After few hours of fruitless journey round the room, she was done. The decision was made. She would return there one more time and do what her heart would like to do when it sees him: kill him, let him go or leave with him. She promised herself no thought of consequences would cross her mind and left the house. It was do or die.
Dark was the night she didn't find his ship in the dock. She knew it would happen one day, sooner rather than later and she thought she had prepared herself for that moment. But she hadn't. And she definitely wasn't prepared for his departure now when she was finally ready to make her move. She even knew what move would it be. She wouldn't be able to kill him. She wouldn't be able to watch him sailing away. She would go with him. Without thinking, without looking back, even without Henry. She would go.
She stood in the harbor without any movement, hearing her heart breaking one more, ultimate time, sensing the excruciating feeling of wasted chance, chance for a change, chance for a life. Chance for everything. She just stood there, not able to move, think or feel.
Suddenly she heard something flapping in the wind. The small piece of paper was stuck under the plank of the jetty. She picked it up and unfolded it.
Find me when or if you are ready.
The words had been outlined in rush and hesitantly, she could tell that. She held the note for a moment, then let the wind blow it away and observed as it was slowly disappearing in the dark sea.
They could create something, they really could; but fate apparently wanted otherwise. What was the sense of arguing with it now? Even her own inner evilness couldn't change what was once decided. Previous events of her life had consolidate this conviction. She will never look for him, she knew that already.
She stood there for a little while longer, thinking that she learned an important lesson from this experience. In the end of every story villains were left utterly, completely alone. And there was nothing, nothing at all that could change that fact. Her own stubbornness, selfishness and fear made it impossible. And her own devil within. The devil she couldn't kill, no matter how hard she tried. The devil no one could kill, even the ones she loved. The ones that had always been leaving her behind because of that fact.
She turned on her heels while the one last tear was running down her cheek. After that her eyes became dry and her heart reverted into an empty hole. She doubted anything would ever be able to fill it again.
Be afraid, Storybrooke. Your Evil Queen with dried eyes and empty heart is here again, with her revenge and pain as big and bloody as never before. Because there was nothing else left for her in this cruel, void world that always denied her happiness. Nothing else but revenge and pain – always and forever.