Because after that finale I think we all need a oneshot. Enjoy.
The clatter of the dagger, falling to the ground, felt like a spike in her head.
The street fell silent. The wind shuddered to a halt. Nothing stirred.
Three fairytale heroes and two fairytale villains stared in shocked silence.
Emma was gone.
The enormity of that single statement rattled in Regina's head, echoing endlessly. Emma had never been gone before. Never. She was always there, from back when she was a thorn in the brunette's side to her new status as a close friend.
Something more?
Never.
The flat denial was obviously untrue, and yet Regina couldn't bring herself to correct it just yet. There was that selfish corner of her blackened heart that still fought against the notion of caring, of opening oneself up to all kinds of pain.
She guessed she should listen to it once in a while.
The question was, was Emma well and truly gone? Had she succumbed to the darkness fighting for dominance in her soul?
Did Dark Ones even get to keep their souls?
If Rumplestiltskin was anything to go by, then certainly not. That was if he'd had a soul to start with.
Regina fervently prayed he had always been that twisted, that evil, and that Emma wouldn't have to suffer the same.
For all their sakes.
Regina became aware of the strong arms clutched around her, immovable as iron. Robin's comforting embrace suddenly seemed stifling and controlling, a prison of flesh and blood, and she tensed in his grip.
Why did it feel so wrong? She had what she had wanted. She had her happy ending. (Even the phrase provoked scorn from within her.) So why couldn't she enjoy it?
Because it had come at the cost of someone else's, of course. And not just anyone's.
Emma's. The Saviour's. The one woman who believed in Regina and not the Evil Queen.
Now Regina had to return the favour. Emma may become the Dark One to everyone else, but to the brunette she would always be Emma.
She had a feeling the blonde would need that in the coming months.
A surge of anger rose in her then, so bitter and terrible as it raced through her blood that it escaped her control and pulsed outwards, causing Robin to jump back with a cry of pain.
She ignored him as she strode forward, the dark magic crackling in her hands. She knelt before the dagger, hovering, wary of even touching the thing, her eyes focused and running over the text inscribed upon the glowing blade.
Emma Swan.
It looked so different. She had been so accustomed to Rumple's name engraved in black medieval script. To have it change so dramatically...
"Where did she go?"
Regina whipped round to face the rest of them, the dagger cold in her hands. Strange. She couldn't recall picking it up.
Snow's face was pale as she spoke, a porcelain mask that threatened to crack and reveal ugly tragedy beneath. David, his arms enveloped around her less tightly now, looked equally as shocked.
"I imagine a long way away," Regina replied, and was horrified to hear her voice emerge as weak and scratchy. "As far away as possible, to protect us."
"But... Surely she can control it? Surely she's strong enough?" That was Hook, his voice grave and serious and his face a picture of solemnity.
Regina burned with the urge to lash out at him, but she managed to reign in her seething magic. Fighting with one another would not help the situation - merely inflame it.
Pushing the mournful confession of I love you to the back of her mind, she composed herself enough to reply.
"It's not a question of strength, dear," she snapped, clenching her fist around the icy handle of the dagger. "Emma will be overwhelmed by the darkness, whether she's the Saviour or not. You saw the dark magic of the curse entering her, did you not? That is now inside her. It will flood her soul, drowning the very essence of her being. Say goodbye to the Saviour, dears, because she isn't coming back." Regina heaved a gasping sigh, her throat closing up as she realised the enormity of her words. "In her place will return something much darker."
A sob emerged from the general direction of the Charmings, and Regina felt one of her own rising in her throat. She swallowed it painfully, her mother's age old words returning to her.
Don't show weakness.
And Regina didn't.
The scream tore from her body the moment she hit the frozen ground in a cloud of black smoke.
In the haze of her agony, Emma vaguely wondered why it was black. Even Rumplestiltskin's hadn't been black. Was that a bad thing? Was it-
Her train of thought was cut off by the razor sharp edge of her pain as it sliced through her, causing her to convulse and shake uncontrollably.
It felt like her very soul was being torn from her body, and someone else's was being shoved in. Her mind was a mess of agony, fear and something darker, something... inhuman. It felt alien, foreign, a parasite, latching on and feeding on the light until none was left. Was it permanent?
God, she hoped not.
Hope has no place in your mind.
Emma gasped, her eyes wide, a hand clamped over her mouth, her nails digging into her skin. Horror and terror rushed through her with such intensity that magic burst out of her, dark magic, flattening the trees around her.
What the hell was that? Was that the Curse?
The dark, malevolent presence in her mind remained silent, but she could sense it gaining strength like clouds gathering before a storm.
She just hoped it would pass her by.
Another spasm of agony shot through her and she fell to her knees, hands curled in harsh claws raking through the dirt. What the hell is happening to me? she screamed silently. It felt like she was being torn apart, cell by cell.
It is merely the transition.
There! There it was again! That dark, ancient voice that resonated through her head and down her spine.
She knew that voice. To whom did it belong? It was female, but sounded... wrong, unrealistic, deep and threatening. It was the voice of a woman not to be toyed with.
Oh, you know me well enough.
And Emma realised that, yes, she did. She knew it like she knew her own name.
It was the voice of her own worst enemy.
Herself.
"So, how do we find her?"
David's question, unreasonably, made Regina want to throttle the idiot. It wasn't his fault that the Saviour was so adept at saving people.
So she just frowned and said, "We need to talk to Gold."
That was met by a shocked silence as the so-called heroes processed her words.
Hook was the first to recover. "What? You want to talk to the crocodile? After what he did to us?"
Regina fixed him with a withering look that could melt the strongest of villains and he flushed, casting his gaze downwards. "Whatever he's done, he is the best insight into the Dark One's Curse we have. We know barely anything about it."
"She's right," Snow said, her voice surprisingly strong and clear. "He's our best chance at finding her."
"Couldn't you just... summon her, with that?" Robin gestured to the dagger, still clutched in a vice-like grip in Regina's hand.
Her lip curled in contempt at his suggestion, ridiculous as it was. "Oh, by all means, summon her. And when we all die, will you be happy then?"
The thief looked suitably abashed, and for a moment Regina felt guilt rushing in. What was she doing, pushing away the person Emma had sacrificed her soul for her to be with? How incredibly selfish of her.
She didn't meet his gaze as she muttered an apology, brief and meaningless. There were far more important things at stake here, after all.
Like the Saviour's soul.
Regina had once told Rumplestiltskin that she wouldn't let him turn Emma into a monster.
She had totally and utterly failed in that regard.
And what about Henry? What the hell was she supposed to tell him? 'Oh, sorry, I let your birth mother sacrifice everything good about her for me?'
Would he understand? Or would he blame her, like he'd done so many times already?
That was a long time ago, her brain supplied, but her insecurities never paid her brain much heed.
"Are you sure you can keep that safe?" Hook questioned, his hooded eyes watching her shiftily, his hands no doubt itching to hold the key to his love's life.
Her grip on the dagger tightened even further, her hand shaking and her knuckles white. She advanced towards him menacingly, pure hatred consuming her.
"You think you would take better care of it? You think you'd be able to protect it, when your precious Saviour comes knocking?" She scoffed. "It's better off with me, dear."
Hook's pretty little face coloured crimson with rage, but Regina just laughed humourlessly, a hollow, broken sound, and deliberately turned her back on the pirate.
There was a long, awkward silence, punctuated by her own harsh breaths as she attempted to gain control of the coming sobs.
"Regina?" Robin asked, tentatively, warily, as if he was afraid of her. Good. Let him see just how broken I am. "Are you alright?"
She became aware of a sharp pain in her left hand, and she looked down to see four perfect crescent-shaped cuts in her palm, where her nails had dug in. The bright blood seemed to ground her, to prepare her for the task ahead.
It was the same colour as Emma's leather jacket.
"Let's find the Saviour."
There were good points and bad points.
The agony was fading. That was good. Very good.
The dark presence in her mind was also fading, which was also good.
She hadn't had another magical outburst, which was even better.
But the voice hadn't gone away.
Oh, Emma. It sounded amused. I'm not going to simply 'go away'. I am you, remember?
The voice paused, and Emma could have sworn she heard a faint chuckle. At least, an improved version. Emma 2.0. How about that?
She silently begged it to go away, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as she wished. Maybe if the voice went, it would mean the curse was gone?
Wishful thinking. You never approved of that, Emma, so why are you resorting to it now? The voice sounded genuinely confused. It won't get you anywhere. It won't help.
She wanted to scream. Perhaps she was going insane. Perhaps the voice wasn't there at all, perhaps it was just a figment of her fevered imagination.
You're doing it again. The tone was one of annoyance, of irritation. I think it's time I ended this.
The fear came rushing back with that simple statement. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was she going to die? Was 'Emma 2.0' going to snuff out her life like she would snuff out a candle?
Yes.
And the agony came rushing back, a flash-flood of it, racing through her, scraping against her bones and her organs, sending flames down her spine. It addled her brain like a drug, a fever, a sickness. It was killing her and she knew it.
And bizarrely, she thought of Regina.
Not Henry, not her parents, not even Hook. No. She thought of Regina.
As she was dragged into the oblivion of pure evil, she kept that thought like a photo in a pocket to take out and look at when feeling down. She kept that thought, and hoped that it would be enough to see her through the darkness and out the other side.
Fin.
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