1237 Words this Chapter

Chapter Eight, Dark Heart

That night Emma had a dream. She was standing in the middle of Storybrooke, people all around talking, playing and laughing in the sunshine. She stood, watching. Then a dark cloud floated over head, directly over her.

It grew, covering the whole town, but only she seemed to see it.

Suddenly the cloud dipped, part of it breaking off and attacking her. She cried out, but no one noticed.

It choked her, turning her black.

She stood, looking at the town and people in a new way. She saw shadow, darkness. She was consumed with hate.

She waved her hand and slowly the people began fighting. First it was two people, then four. Then the children began to hit each other and fall to the ground. Everywhere in front of her there were riots.

She smiled.

She then saw Henry. He ran to her, concern in his voice. She wanted to cry out, but she was unable. The cloud wouldn't let her.

He ran to her. As she watched, he reached out and touched her. He looked at her, shock on his face as he slowly turned black, consumed by the cloud.

She cried his name, but he just stared at her, his eyes going black.

He walked away, slowly turning even blacker. Then she watched in horror as he exploded in tiny bits of darkness.

She screamed his name, but the black cloud held on tight, strangling her. She tried to fight it, to break out, but she couldn't.

She looked up and saw no people in the town now. Just lots and lots of black ash where the people had been. Had they all exploded, like Henry?

Her parents walked down a sidewalk, pushing Neal's stroller. She called out for them, but they didn't hear. They walked to her, looking at her and smiling like everything was normal. She trembled as she saw their hands reaching out for her.

She screamed for them to stop.

They touched her face and each one turned black and exploded. She watched as Neal's stroller rolled away, then fell over, black dust falling out of the now empty carriage.

She was alone, screaming in vain.

Then she heard her name. She looked up to see Killian running to her. She screamed to him to help her. He promised that he would. He would save her.

He stopped in front of her and reached out. She yelled for him to stop. He shook his head. He would never abandon her, not even if it killed him.

She yelled back that it would.

She saw his jeweled fingers moving closer to her. She tried to pull away. She begged him to let her go, begged him not to sacrifice himself for her.

Then she felt his fingers on her cheeks, but only for a moment. She was looking into his blue eyes as they changed to black. She saw them shatter and the dust that had been her beloved Killian silently showered her.

Emma woke up screaming. She was sweating, panting, and scared to death. For a moment she thought it was over, the dream had cured her.

She felt incredible fear for the people she loved. She shook at the memory of their destruction. Maybe it was over now. It had been some strange illness that had broken with some horrible dream.

She walked to her window, looking out over the darkened docks. She looked into the stillness and caught sight of someone. He stood still, watching her window.

Killian. Of course he was still hovering near, even in the dead of night.

She locked eyes with him, those blue eyes that had haunted her moments before.

She watched him and felt her stomach lurch. The darkness surged like a tidal wave and she actually had the thought, "I wish you were dead, Pirate."

She was anything but cured.

That morning in Gold's shop, Belle was frustrated with her husband. "You have to help!"

He rolled his eyes. "Why? So the Sheriff is acting a bit more aggressive than usual, I'm sure it's merely a case of the Charmings overreacting."

His wife grabbed him, pulling him away from the old artifact he was studying. "Didn't David say others were affected too?"

"Am I to interfere simply because some of the town residents are feeling a bit grumpy? It's hardly worth my time, Belle. I'm sure it's just a case of mass hysteria."

"What if it's not? What if they need help?"

He frowned, then heard the shop's bell. Thankfully, someone was coming in the door. "Henry, how good to see you lad. What are you up to this Saturday morning, huh?"

The boy smiled weakly.

"Is something wrong?"

Henry sighed, his hands in his pockets. "My mom...she's acting strange." He looked at the floor. "She keeps making excuses not to see me."

The adults stared at him. Belle had a look of compassion, Gold's was blank.

"I'd understand if I'd done something, but I swear, I haven't. And...it's not just me, she's yelling at my grandparents, she even threatened to fire Grandpa."

"Really?" asked Gold, his eyebrow going up.

Henry nodded. "I asked her about Killian, and she got this look like...she hated him."

"Well, that I can understand..." quipped Gold. Belle elbowed him.

"I can't. She adores him, at least she did. It was obvious, but now..." Henry sighed. "I'm really worried."

Belle looked at Gold with a 'told you so' look. "Come here, sweetie," she said, running up to the boy and taking him in her arms. She rubbed his shoulder. "Everything will be alright, I promise. Won't it?" she asked Gold, clearly asking him to reassure Henry as well.

He nodded. "Indeed. We'll find whatever is troubling your mother, and help her."

Henry smiled. "Thank you, grandpa."

Belle smiled too. "I'm going to get you a nice snack," she said. "I'll be right back." She left the men together.

Henry looked around the shop. Gold stood still, behind the counter. Henry began to shuffle around. He sighed. He looked up at Gold, his eyes red and moist. "It's like...she doesn't care about me anymore."

His grandfather's face softened.

"I heard my other mom talking to my grandmother. They were talking about magic. Could that be what's wrong with Emma?"

"I don't know, lad. If it is, there is no one better to help her than Regina."

"Right."

Gold moved from the counter and walked to a chair. He carried it to a desk piled with books. He motioned Henry to sit, and he sat in the chair beside him. Then Gold opened a book. "No one better," he said with a smirk, "other than me."

Henry smiled.

"Everything starts with research, my boy. You start with this volume," he said, handing the boy a book, then he took another larger one. "I'll begin with this one."

"What do I look for?"

"Anything that sounds like what's happening with your mother: mood swings, change of behavior..."

"Hating everyone?"

Gold looked at the boy. He patted his head. "She does not hate you, Henry. The one thing I know with utter certainty about Emma Swan is that she loves her son."

Henry smiled and nodded.

"Something is indeed wrong with your mother and we shall find out what."

End of Chapter Eight