This is just a refection on what I think may have been going through Regina's mind in the scene with the potion in 4x20 'Mother.' Hope you enjoy. Xx
She had to.
She had no choice. She had to do this to protect herself and her children; the children she could have had. The children she will never have.
It's funny, but it had seemed like such a harmless liquid. It wasn't like normal potions that smoke and smolder, deep acrid smelling draughts that bubble and curdle, thick and dark and menacing. Instead it was an innocent shade of pink, pretty almost in a certain light, and it smelled sweetly of strawberries and something soft and floral. There was a harmlessness to it, as if there was no way something as light and pale and nonthreatening in appearance could have such lasting permanent effect.
But appearances can be deceiving.
There was a moment, one pure blissful moment, after swallowing that she felt powerful; protected and right and safe. She had finally been strong enough. She stood up to her mother, she protected herself, she fought back and did what she didn't have the courage to do years ago when she desperately wishes she had. In that one precious instance she finally felt strong; but then the pain began.
Sharp and instant like something was carving her out from the inside. A searing fire the blazed through her gripping and shriveling all at once like she was being torn at the seems, causing a moan to pass through her lips unbidden as she crumpled to her knees against the agony. But even then she still had the knowledge that she had won, that finally she had taken something from her mother that could never be returned. If she had finally been able to inflict an iota of misery upon her mother, a fraction of the damage the wretched woman had bestowed upon her then it was all worth it, or so she thought.
It wasn't until afterwards, when her mother had left and she was alone in the silence, the pain mellowed to a dull throbbing ache, that the weight of what she had done finally began to sink in. The hollowness within her, the panged emptiness growing and spreading like ice through her veins, numbing and fracturing the victory she had tasted turning it to ash on her tongue.
It was then that she realized how truly alone she was. How alone she would always be.