The wooden door that led to her cell flew open, and Emma jumped to her feet expectantly.

When the darkness had surrounded her, she'd woken up here, in this cell she'd been told once held Rumplestiltskin. But nobody could tell her where Rumplestiltskin was, or how she'd come to take his place. It was almost as though she were tethered here by magic.

And it would be lonely. It would, if not for her one daily visitor.

"Good morning, Dark One," purred the familiar voice, stepping into the light.

"Emma," she corrected on instinct. Not that it mattered. This particular visitor had never been one to use her actual name, and although 'Miss Swan' had been annoying enough, having herself referred to as though she were evil personified made her feel sick.

Because she wasn't evil. Or at least, she didn't feel like she was. Maybe – she dared to hope – it meant she never would be. But she was afraid it was just a side effect of the spell that held her in this cell, or that once she returned to Storybrooke (if she returned to Storybrooke?) the darkness would take over, or that – god forbid – she just couldn't remember the deeds she'd done to land herself here.

The Queen waved a flippant hand to dismiss her. "I have good news for you today."

"Yeah?" Despite her better judgment, Emma was interested. The Queen – she couldn't quite bring herself to think of this woman as Regina – had been very cryptic with her visits. She was working on something, but she either wouldn't or couldn't tell her what it was. Emma had gathered it was some sort of spell.

Whether that spell would work out in her favor remained to be seen.

"Yeah," the Queen replied mockingly. "I have completed the spell that will release you from this prison."

So far, so good. "Okay. Then what?"

"Don't you know?" The Queen raised an eyebrow. "Once you are released from this cell, you will once again have full access to your dark powers."

Okay, probably not so good. Wait –

"What do you mean, 'again'?"

The Queen laughed. "Oh, once this spell is cast, I think you'll know exactly what I mean."

Shit.

Emma took a step back. "I don't want anything to do with this. I'd rather die right here in this cell than hurt anyone."

"Oh, how heroic." The Queen rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately for you, I have plans that rather involve you not being cooped up in this little cage. And once you're free – well." She grinned. "I think you'll be more than willing to participate."

"Don't do this," Emma begged. "Regina. Listen to me."

At hearing her real name, the Queen briefly furrowed her brow in confusion, then seemed to remember she was dealing with the Dark One, potentially the seer of all. Emma, however, couldn't see any farther than her vague hopes of safety in the company of her family. Including the real Regina.

"Don't call me that," the Queen hissed. "You will refer to me as Your Majesty and nothing more."

"Yeah?" Emma snorted, having absolutely no intention of calling her that ever. "Or what, Regina?"

The Queen looked for a moment like she might attempt to toss a fireball in Emma's general direction, but then smoothed her face over with a grin. "Never mind. I suppose I should know better than to argue with the Dark One."

"Why's that?" Emma asked, trying to buy herself time. "Afraid that if you cast this spell to free me, I might kill you?"

"Oh, the spell has already been cast," the Queen said airily. Emma felt her stomach drop. "And you and I have always been on the same side."

"What side is that?"

"Why, the side of darkness, of course."

Emma lunged toward the bars, gripping them. "I have never been on that side, and I never will be."

But even as she said it, she could feel it wasn't true. Dark thoughts were beginning to swirl through her mind. She remembered shadows of death, the need to kill, holding a heart in her hand and crushing it—

"They said you were a monster."

"Only on the inside."

—crushing it, and loving the feeling it gave her. The feeling of power.

"No." Emma stumbled backwards, clutching her head.

"Yes," the Queen grinned. "Soon the seal on this cell will break, and you'll be free."

Emma couldn't speak anymore. Her head was pounding and she dropped to her knees, trying to fight this pointless, losing battle. The Queen's laugh echoed through the cell.

But then there was something else. A relentless tugging towards a familiar presence, so strong she was sure she couldn't fight it – and she didn't want to. Anything had to be better than this.

So she let herself give in. Dimly, she was aware of a purple cloud beginning to surround her, and the Queen's furious screaming in the background.

And then she fell.

When she landed, it was on the asphalt. The same asphalt where she'd first taken on the darkness what seemed like weeks or maybe even months ago, but here it seemed that nothing had changed. She was surrounded by the concerned faces of her friends and family, and it was the most horrible fate she could imagine because she knew she was going to kill them all.

It was Regina, holding the dagger, who dropped to the ground beside her. She placed her hands on Emma's shoulders, gently helping her into a sitting position. "Emma. Emma, are you okay?"

And she laughed because it was Regina again, Regina using her real name, the most amazing sound she'd ever heard.

"Emma?" Regina looked concerned and Emma wished she could tell her that everything was going to be all right, but it would have been a lie. The darkness was enveloping her and probably nothing was ever going to be all right again.

But she was in Storybrooke and Regina had the dagger and everything was going fuzzy so she did the only thing she could do.

Reaching forward with her last bit of strength, she wrapped her arms around Regina's neck and whispered, "Thank you."

Then everything went dark.