Up in smoke
Hello there. Sorry, I know updates are rather few and far between now, but as I've mentioned before I'm no longer a student. I have a full time job as well as other commitments and writing no longer takes the priority in my life that it did at a time when it was needed. That being said, I wanted to write this chapter, so here it is. Based around Emma's feelings after Killian was taken to the Underworld. Yes, before someone says it I know I don't really do ships, but this fit here and I wanted to write this.
Emma just didn't know how to begin to feel alright again. Everything hurt. She had never felt in so much pain. Probably because she'd never had such strong feelings for another person before. This was the first time something had ever felt real. Emma felt so stupid. She felt so angry with herself for letting her guard down so easily. For believing that this was it for her. That this was her chance to be happy. Damn it, didn't she deserve to be happy? Hadn't she been through enough? She didn't blame Killian. He couldn't have prevented this. She blamed herself more than anything. She had known for a while that this wasn't going to end well. Her parents tried to convince her that all you needed was hope to be entitled to your happy ending that Emma just wanted to believe for a few days it was true, even though it was clear as day that none of their plans would work. This was destined to fail. Emma knew this relationship was doomed, but had refused to allow herself to accept it. How could she? She was happy for the first time in a very long time. That only made the inevitable fall all the more painful.
Emma had hardly moved in days. She had barely eaten. If she wasn't surrounded by people who were so deeply concerned about her, she probably wouldn't have eaten at all. The pain that was caused by the pang of hunger was about the only feeling she was able to control while the rest of her body and mind wrestled with the shattering heartbreak she had endured.
As Emma gradually returned to normality (or as normal as she could feel whilst her heart still healed), she coped during the day. During the day she had things to keep her busy. She had Henry. She had work. She had parents that were still concerned about how Emma was feeling. About she might end up doing in one of her darker moments. Emma was doing her best not to be angry. Anger wouldn't help. Even towards Nimue. She was just as conditioned by the terms and conditions that came with being the Dark One as she herself had been. Deep down Emma understood that it wasn't her fault she was the way she was, that this was the way things had to be. Snow, on the other hand, held no such view. If she could get her hands on that toad of a woman, dark magic or no dark magic, Snow would tell her to pass on her regards to Killian in the Underworld.
No, the problem wasn't daytime with Emma. The problem was the night. When everything was quiet and there was little to distract her brain from wandering to thoughts of what might have been. To dreaming up her own happy ending where things had turned out the way she'd wanted them to. That just tore open her still fresh wounds as she had to pull her head out of her daydream and remember that her dreams would never be reality. She would never be with him again, no matter how much she still wanted to be.
Of one thing Emma was certain. Even she felt like she was healed from the wounds inflicted from Killian's parting, they would leave their scars. Emma would allow the dull pain to be a constant reminder to her of trusting too quickly. Of believing talk of forever and thinking beyond that moment. She would never be so quick to believe in happiness again.
