A/N- Sorry it took so long for an update. I finally decided to break this chapter up. I was going to do a really long chapter, but it started to get away from me. I will probably have the next part up soon, however, as it is mostly finished.

Here is where the angst really sets in... Keep in mind Killian and Emma's personalities keep shifting as the darkness takes hold. Neither are aware of it and fluctuate often between their normal selves and their darker versions.

I'd love to hear from you, readers. Writing good people gone bad is especially difficult, so I am very curious what you think.

You know what to do!

CHAPTER 6

"So, Mom, are you going to come over and help look for clues about the Author again?" Henry asked, interspersing the question with gulps of cereal. He gave her a pleading wide-eyed look that he knew she could never resist.

"Mmm," Emma mumbled, staring at the morning's paper intently, nibbling at her toast, and rubbing circles over her eyes like she had a headache. "Not today, kid."

"But—" Henry started, then frowned as he noticed his mother was glaring at him.

"Don't start. You know how busy I am tracking down Batman. Besides, it's not as if you and Regina have made any more progress finding this guy, right?"

"Or girl," Henry corrected.

"Or girl," Emma huffed, rolling her eyes in a not-quite-playful way. If Henry didn't know better, he would almost say she was actually annoyed with him.

And there was something about the hard edge of her tone that had him super uneasy. Something was wrong, he could feel it. "Yeah. I suppose. It's okay, Mom. I'll just head over to Regina's on my own."

"Great." She nodded absently and returned to looking at the paper and ignoring him. Henry quickly gathered up his things and ran up to his room in a state of near panic. What was he going to do? Should he tell Gram and Gramps? His other mom? Killian? Would anyone believe him?

It was so unlike her to blow him off, even when she was super busy and facing the worst villains, she had always made time for him. But this…coldness? And she had promised to help with looking for clues for the author today. She had been pretty excited about it, he thought.

This was weird. His mom wasn't acting like herself at all, and he hadn't been this freaked out since before the curse was broken.

Henry stopped his pacing and forced himself to calm down. Okay, stay calm. Think about it. What would Emma do? How would she deal if she noticed something wrong with you?

When Pan had done that body-swap thing, his mom had noticed then. And what had she done? She had watched him, kept an eye on him, and never once doubted her instincts. So that was what he needed to do now.

He needed to trust his gut, just like she did hers.

Cautiously, Henry opened the door to his room and peered out over the stairway railing. His mom was still at the counter, but she was peering off into space like she was lost in thought, her chin resting on her balled up fist. There wasn't anything specific about her posture that seemed different, but he just knew there was, like he had known there was something wrong with the town all those years ago. Suddenly, Emma's face broke into a wicked grin and she waved her hand in the air. At once, all the clothes she had on were replaced by a new outfit. It was all black. Black leggings, black sweater, black leather jacket. Tall black leather boots. Even her hair was styled differently- curled and pulled back into a high ponytail. Had his mom just done a magical wardrobe change? Why? Emma never did stuff like that. And what was she wearing? If Henry didn't know better, he would say his mom was trying to dress… like a villain.

Or a pirate, he thought, mentally smacking himself for not seeing the obvious. Maybe that was it. Maybe she was just trying to look nice for Killian.

He sighed and all the tension bled out of him. Nothing was wrong with his mom, she was just in love. Love was confusing. He wondered if he would act like that if he ever fell in love. With a shudder, he thought, I hope not.

As he was about to go back into his room, Henry saw her get out her phone and make a call. She had a strange look on her face, almost as if she was scared. Why would his mom be afraid of talking to someone? Was it bad news? He leaned over farther, anxiously listening and what he heard shook him to his core.

…..

Heart pounding, Emma picked up her phone and dialed. It was answered on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Um, Ursula, this is Emma," she began, wondering why she sounded so nervous. It wasn't like this was a big deal.

"Oh! Emma. Hi! I'm glad you called," the woman sounded brighter and cheerier than she had the night before, and Emma wondered if their meeting had something to do with it.

"Yeah, so… I was thinking. About your offer." She took a deep breath, "And I'm in."

There was a silence for a beat before Ursula answered. "Really? You want me to teach you magic?"

"Yep. You were right. I need more magic to defeat the hell beast." Come on, Emma, that's not the only reason and you know it. "So, how do you want to do this?"

Ursula laughed good-naturedly and said, "Well, why don't you come over to my place. It's a bit out of the way, but we won't be interrupted out there by any nosy townsfolk."

"Okay, sure. Text me the address and I'll be there in an hour."

As she hung up, Emma saw the address pop up on her screen and she slid her phone into her pants. She was practically giggling with excitement over what she was about to do.

Just then, Henry came sprinting downstairs, his fairy tale book in hand, and looking at her with something like…fright? "Mom? Are you okay?"

Like a faucet being turned off, her smile disappeared. "Sure, kid. I'm really great. I just got some good news. Are you leaving?"

Henry narrowed his eyes, like he was studying her carefully. Seriously, what was with him today? Clutching the book tighter, he gave her a curt nod.

"Okay. Have fun," she said with a confused shake of her head, but lacking any real feelings about it one way or the other. Frankly, she was glad Regina was keeping him busy with this 'author' nonsense, because then he would be out of her hair and she could focus on what was really important: her magic.

Wait. What? Where had that come from?

Feeling a bit sickened with herself, she turned to apologize to her son, but he was already out the door. With a sigh, she vowed to make it up to him later. Maybe she would even show off some of her new skills to impress him. He'd probably love that. With another little flourish, a cup of coffee appeared in her hand, and the butterflies returned again.

…..

Knocking. Bloody knocking. Who the hell was knocking this bloody early?

"Killian?" Came a small, timid voice. Not Swan. Swan's son.

He groaned and dragged himself out of bed, his head aching with the remnants of last night's rum binge. "Henry?" He said, throwing open the door. "What the devil are you doing here, lad?"

Typical of himself, Henry spilled into the room and announced, "Killian, you have to help my mom."

"Aye? Do you have any idea how bloody early it is?" He walked over to his desk and shook the bottle to see if anything was left. With a sneer, he threw the empty bottle in the trash. "What is it this time, eh?"

Henry jumped up on top of Killian's bed and he could hear the distinctive clatter of empty bottles underneath.

"Something's wrong," Henry said, giving his a look that was both serious and worried.

Clenching his jaw as a sudden sharp pain flared behind his eye, he shook his head. "Sorry, lad, but you're going to need to be a bit more specific if you want me to help," he said harshly.

Henry looked up at him, really looked at him, and frowned. "It's hard to explain."

Killian rolled his eyes. "Of course it is," he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose hoping to alleviate the thundering ache.

The boy gave him a glare that rivaled his mother's and said, "She's not acting like herself. There's just something different about her, okay. I know that you and mom are close, that she tells you things. Can't you just talk to her and find out what is going on? Please?"

It was the note of desperation and worry that broke through Killian's foul mood. He didn't know why he was feeling so bitter towards the lad or why he was trying so hard to shut him out. This was Henry, Swan's boy. What was he doing? "Aye, lad. I'll look into it." He reached down and ruffled the kid's hair, giving him a watery smile at the same time.

"Thanks, Killian. I knew I could count on you," Henry answered with a relieved sigh. He started to back out the door, but at the last second, changed his mind. "Hey, if you want, I'd like to hang out again sometime."

Killian nodded, feeling a bit awkward. He was still fighting off some sort of internal tug-of-war that had him wanting to be rid of the kid as fast as possible. He had no idea where that feeling was coming from, and quite frankly, it was starting to worry him. Maybe Swan would know what was wrong.

Henry left quickly, and Killian was alone once more. Going back over the events of last night, all he could remember was an intense need to protect Swan from the Crocodile and debating whether to retrieve the dagger.

Why was he even debating getting the dagger? He had made up his mind long ago about going after Gold. Hadn't he?

Using the connection, he closed his eyes and searched out for Emma's end of the line. He felt her there, her emotions coming back were excited and nervous. It was like she was looking forward to something she wanted very badly. Actually, she seemed quite happy. Maybe Henry was wrong about his mother. Clearly, there was nothing bothering her if she was in this good of a mood. The lad must have just been overreacting.

Wasn't that to be expected from a kid his age?

Killian's thoughts turned darker. Really, the boy probably did this sort of thing a lot, what with having two mothers and most of the town looking after him. Lad had more family and friends than anyone else in this sodding town. So, what, he wasn't getting any attention from his mom so he thought he'd come pester the pirate?

Killian frowned deeply, recalling the way Henry was always so stand-offish around him, especially as he and Emma had grown closer. Henry had never seemed really keen on him dating Emma in the first place. And what had he said during that curse? He'd called him a dirty pirate, and said he never liked seeing him and Emma together. Well, bugger that! Kid could stuff it.

Grabbing the nearest half-full bottle, Killian chugged its contents and stormed from the room. He needed something the booze was just not providing. His fist clenched together and he looked down, like the hand had a mind of its own. Perhaps it did. It sure felt like it was itching to punch something. Or maybe someone. And really, a fist fight felt like the perfect thing to relieve the tension that was gathering at the base of his spine. Fists, swords…hook. It all sounded bloody amazing.

…..

Ursula's house was the last thing Emma expected. A nice, well-kept Cape Cod style on the far edge of a residential area. Not quite in the woods, it was surrounded by trees and bordered by a long, winding driveway. It was the type of place she expected Archie or Whale to live in, not a sea goddess. As she approached, her nerves starting getting the better of her. Before she had left home, she had really been looking forward to this, but the closer she got, the more her worries started coming out. A really small voice in the back of her head kept screaming at her to stop and turn around, that something was really wrong. Normally, it was that voice she tended to listen to. But Ursula had been right. She needed to defeat the Chernabog and keep her family safe (despite another nastier voice telling her that she needed to stop worrying so much about her family and worry about herself for a change). For that, she needed magic.

If she was being really honest, she was only here because she was curious to see what kind of things Ursula could teach her that she hadn't learned from Regina or on her own. Emma had accepted her magic, accepted her that this was her life, her home, and now it was time to really see what she was capable of.

Raising her hand to knock, the sea witch was already opening the door, a pleased look in her brown eyes. "I'm glad you made it, Emma. Come in," she offered, motioning her into a large sitting room, cleared of everything except a couple of chairs and a table loaded with an assortment of magical objects.

"Thanks," Emma replied hesitantly. She took in the bare space, and chuckled. "I feel like I'm here to do yoga or something. You really went all out."

Ursula shrugged and said, "Well, when you are first exploring your magic, things can get a bit…messy. I just got this place, thought it might be best to keep the damage to a minimum."

Emma relaxed at the woman's easygoing mannerisms and quelled the voice of doubt in her head. "Okay, so how do we do this?"

With a light laugh, Ursula took a seat and waved Emma over to join her. "How about we just talk for a bit? It might help you relax. That's the thing about magic. You need to be calm, confident, and ready for anything when you are practicing. You need to own it, you know."

With a slight frown, Emma admitted, "I've been trying to. I mean, I like having magic. I've never had anything that made me feel special before. And having magic has given me that. But I'll admit, it's been kind of scary, too. I look at Regina and Gold and I see what having magic has done to them. So, yeah, I hesitate to use it, to really explore what I'm capable of."

Taking Emma's hand, Ursula shook her head sadly, "Oh, Emma. If only you could understand. Magic is strength. It's power. Just because some people do bad things with it, doesn't make the magic itself bad." She paused, looking at Emma as if trying to read her mind. "Think about it. Wouldn't it be great to protect the people you care about? To make sure that you would never lose anyone again? Magic can do that for you. That and so much more."

Emma's throat tightened, her chest squeezed. To never have to lose anyone else? She could do that? She could make sure that she would never have to go through the pain of another loss ever again. To be able to trust that the people she cared for wouldn't leave. Blinking rapidly and with a hitched breath, Emma brought her hand up in front of her face. She could feel the warm electric tingle of her magic just beneath her fingertips. Faintly, she could see the white glow spreading across her palms.

She didn't have to be afraid of this. This was something to be proud of, something to help take the hurt away, to ease the years of suffering.

Beside her, Ursula was saying softly, "That's it, Emma. Focus on what you want. Everything that you want. Let that feeling, that need, guide you."

The glow spread, the warmth moved further down her arm, sparking electric arcs across her skin. She could feel her muscles tremble with excitement and anticipation and the slow build of her power driving her forward. Slowly she stood up and walked to the middle of the room.

What did she want? What did she need? Her heart felt heavy with the weight of her burdens.

"Go on, let it out," Ursula coaxed, standing beside her but back aways, giving her room to branch out. And branch out she did. A swirling vortex of wind began to spin about the room, whipping their hair and clothes madly.

Closing her eyes tightly, Emma tilted her head into the hum of her magic, focusing her thoughts.

I want… I want… to never be scared. I want to feel brave and strong.

As she chanted these thoughts, her magic grew, surrounding her, enveloping her in a cloud of swirling white that was quickly becoming interspersed with a ribbon of dark blood red. Her lips twisted into a smile and she could feel the words seeping into her skin, taking root.

"I am strong. I am powerful. I am better than those who want to put me down," she declared, not even realizing she was saying the words aloud.

"Yes! Good Emma. Now, what are you going to do about it?" Ursula asked hungrily, her eyes reflecting back the light coming from Emma's magic.

"I'm going to win," Emma stated. The rush of blood and wind and magic and energy pounding through her body was making her sway on her feet. She held her hands aloft over her head and watched in fascination as scarlet lightning shot forth from her fingers and wrapped itself around her arms.

God, she had never felt so alive!

"How?" Ursula asked, feeling her own magic rising in response to the pull of energy Emma was exuding. It was all she could do to keep her own powers under control. Emma was like a superconductor charging all the particles in the room. Gold had said she was powerful, but Ursula doubted even he had foreseen the true nature of the Savior.

How? Emma pondered. How was she going to keep herself safe from the people who threatened her? Cora, Pan, Zalena, the Snow Queen, Gold. So many villains wanting to harm her, to take away her happiness. And not only villains. Even people she loved and trusted had hurt her. Neal, Walsh, Graham, her parents. Actually, they had hurt her more than any villain ever could because she had believed in them, because she had opened herself up to them, allowed them inside her heart where they could break it, stomp on it, tear it asunder.

No. No more. She needed to show them that she wasn't afraid of them anymore. She needed to prove just how strong she truly was. "I'm going to make them pay," she smirked.

Suddenly, the tornadic winds eased back, the white light magic completely absorbed into a dark crimson cloud. And as Emma looked up at Ursula, her eyes turned from green to a golden amber, somewhere between the color of fire and blood.

...

Next: Killian takes on some Merry Men, Emma takes on the Chernabog, and David does damage control...badly.