Chapter Text
Slicked back silver hair, black snakeskin jacket, bright red lipstick, pale skin. That was what she had been reduced to. Everything that wasn’t her. The Saviour, the embodiment of goodness and light, had been turned into the Dark One, the embodiment of evil and darkness. But she wasn’t dark. Being the product of True Love, proper True Love and not the romantic stuff that was spewed out in every romance film, made her the Saviour, and it saved her from the Darkness.
But no one else needed to know that.
All the people of Storybrooke needed to know was that Emma Swan was the Dark One. The only Dark One. They didn’t need to know that Killian Jones, formerly known as ruthless pirate captain, was also a Dark One. She was working on fixing that problem.
And she would fix it, would get right back on track fixing it, right after they sat down and ate food, like they used to. She wanted to show him that the Darkness hadn’t fully consumed her. That she was still his love, his Swan, his Emma.
She watched as he entered the cabin, looking around the place that had been his home for more than two hundred years. She watched him for a little longer, enjoying this small moment between them, even if he didn’t know she was there. She made herself known behind him, pressing on the floorboard that she knew creaked.
Killian whirled round, his eyebrows constantly set in a furrow ever since they’d arrived back in Storybrooke. “That’s not funny appearing like that.”
Emma smiled softly, the smile that was only meant for him. She wanted so badly to reach out and run her fingers through his hair, rub her thumbs between the crease of his eyebrow and smooth out the creases. When he didn’t say anything else, she blanched, widening her eyes and attempting a look of sympathy. She may have managed to fight off most of the Darkness, but it still impeded her ability to feel sympathy. But she really hadn’t meant to scare him. “Sorry.” She mumbled, watching as his eyes roved up and down her figure. A small surge of pride ran through her, allowing her the possibility that he still loved her, despite the evil running through her blood.
“What’s going on?”
She sighed softly, holding his eye contact. She loved his eyes. They were so blue, the same colour as the sea. You can tell a lot from a person’s eyes; someone had told her that once. And it was definitely true for Killian. When he was angry, his eyes were a darker blue, like they were right now, when he was calm they were lighter, with a lot more life to them. “I know this has all been really confusing and I have not made it any easier.” The muscle in his jaw ticked and she broke eye contact, no longer able to withstand the storm of anger in his gaze. Her gaze flicked to his feet before finally travelling back up to his eyes, “I wanted to apologise for overreacting last time. I know you’re just trying to help. So I thought, we could just talk and have lunch, like old times.”
Those were her favourite types of date, when it was just the two of them; talking and laughing and kissing like two people who didn’t have the weight of the world on their shoulders. And those types of dates made her feel safe and secure and most importantly, wanted. He’d listen to her regaling stories of her childhood and she would listen to his. It was one of her favourite parts of their relationship. How easy it was to talk. How easy it had been to talk. Before she went and turned herself into the Dark One.
“I’d like nothing more. But this is hardly like old times.” He said, venom dripping from his voice. His grip tightened around the takeout bag from Granny’s before he placed it on the table.
Immediately, the tabletop changed. The food from the takeout bag was laid out on the table, atop a red and white gingham tablecloth. Two plates of grilled cheese sat on top, one with fries and one with onion rings. Their normal order. She’d also gone to the trouble of changing her outfit, replacing the icy, dark tones with the warmer pink dress she’d worn on their first date. She knew it was sneaky, underhand, but if it gave him a sense of before the Darkness, she would be happy. It gave her a sense of normalcy too, she loved leather, not snakeskin. “Better? Come on.” She held out her hand, a warm smile on her face.
Killian turned to face her, something flickering across his face. Love maybe? Gratitude? Even he didn’t know. Reluctantly, he reached out and took the hand she offered him.
“You know you can trust me.” She said, a pleading edge to her tone.
****
They ate their meal in silence. A little bit of Emma’s heart broke. He hadn’t looked at her once, just staring at the food on his plate. A part of her wanted him to shout at her, hit her, do something to acknowledge that she was there.
“I have questions.”
“You want to know if I’m still the same Emma.” And she was. She was still the Emma he fell in love with. She wanted to reach out, wrap her arms around him and never let go. He was the only thing that made sense to her in a world full of curses and magic and God knows what else.
“I imagine that’s not a simple answer.” The harshness of his tone cracked her heart a little more. “So let’s start easy. Your new house.” The smile that spread across his face when he said those words fixed the crack his tone had just made. That house, the beautiful one she’d bought after everyone came back from Camelot, was the house he’d picked for her. It was the one they were meant to live in together. “What’s behind that locked door?” He waited for her to answer, his gaze hardening as the silence stretched out between them. With every moment he could feel the trust he had in her slipping away. “You know I want to trust you, Emma. Why don’t you help me?”
She reached forward, covering his hand with hers. Warmth spread through her as his thumb quickly ran over her fingers. “So trust me.” She tried to keep the pleading tone from her voice and from the look on his face she succeeded. Forcing a smile onto her face, she tilted her head slightly. “With my powers, I could hide anything from your prying eyes, anyways.”
Hurt flashed across his face and settled in his eyes, it was not going to be leaving any time soon. He pulled his hand away, not looking at her, not having the chance to see the pain that flashed across her face for a brief second before it was gone. He looked down at his hand, his skin still warm from where her hand had rested on top of his. “Well, you’ve answered my first question too. You’re not the same Emma.” He looked up at her, trying his hardest not to get lost in the green of her eyes. That was the one thing that hadn’t changed. The colour of her eyes. “She didn’t play games.”
The Dark One. She was meant to be the Dark One. There was no point getting lost in his gaze and thinking about the way his lips moved against hers when she was meant to be the Dark One. She cleared her throat, wanting her voice to come out strong and assured and if she kept looking into his eyes, it would come out weak and shaky. “Yes. I’m different. I’m better.” I’m the same. I still love you. Please trust me. Please.
“As the Dark One.”
“I used to be scared and judgemental and closed off. Took me forever to see the magic in this place. And now, I- I see things clearly. I’m not scared any more. Honestly, I’m an open book, if you’re willing to take that trust step.” She said, referencing their shared moment on the beanstalk. She wanted to show him that she was still Emma Swan, the woman he flirted with on the beanstalk, the one who was an open book to him.
He eyed her as she began to pour more wine. “Are you really suggesting we move forward in a real relationship?” He wanted that. He wanted nothing more than to drag her from the chair and into the bed in the corner. He wanted his Swan back. But he couldn’t trust her, not when she was the Dark One. He’d spent centuries trying to exact his revenge on the Dark One and now his girlfriend, the love of his life, was the Dark One. Ironic.
“Gold and Belle loved each other.” She knew as soon as the words left her mouth that they were the wrong ones to use. Killian hated Gold and everything about him. She could sense his anger when there was extra venom in his next sentence.
“I don’t think you should use the Crocodile as your example.”
She turned to face him again, setting the bottle of wine down on the table. Her eyebrows furrowed as she pretended to think. She needed to get through to him, needed him to trust her. “But think about it. He was born a coward. He didn’t find True Love until he became the Dark One. You told me how the man he was groveled and cried on the deck of this ship. He changed too.” She watched as Killian’s brows furrowed, showing his anger and dislike at the story.
“You’re wrong. I was the villain in that little drama, Swan.”
The way he spat out her last name made her flinch, made her rethink all of her previous decisions. This had definitely been a bad idea. All she had wanted was to eat and talk like they used to, when they were happy, when there was no curse or Darkness or anything like that. Just the two of them, together.
“He was a good man, trying to keep his family together.” Killian stood up quickly, his voice wavering as he spoke, and moved towards the window sill, where his cutlass was resting. “I took this cutlass and put it to his head.”
The feel of the cutlass’ cold blade against the skin of her neck caused fear to spread throughout her body. He’d changed, she knew that. But he didn’t see her as Emma Swan, his love, he saw her as the Dark One. And nothing more. She squared her jaw and dared to look at him, showing that she wasn’t scared.
“And taunted him. I was the only one there who’s changed for the better. He became an evil, manipulative killer.”
The look on his face as he reminisced about his past caused another crack in her already breaking heart. She hated herself for making him relive his past. Deciding that the seriousness was over, she stood up, grabbing his arm and moved behind him. “Do you remember when we were in the Storybook and I taught you how to swordplay?” That was one of her favourite moments with him, even if he didn’t remember her. He’d still looked at her like she hung the moon and the stars in the sky.
Killian didn’t hear the joy in her voice as he recalled the memory or, if he did, he thought she was putting it on, the Darkness coming out to play again. “More games. Enough, Swan!” He snapped, pulling away from her and letting the sword fall into her grasp. He didn’t notice the way she looked down at the blade now in her hands, the memory it triggered before she pushed it away as he continued to talk. “All I wanted was your honesty.” His voice was full of hurt, disguised by an awful attempt at jollyness. “But I am done. Humouring you. Answer me. And start by telling me why you brought me here. It wasn’t because this is what we used to do, because that you isn’t here. You need something, Dark One. So tell me where it is.”
The sudden change from being called Swan to Dark One startled her and she stared at him for a moment. Was that really all he saw? That she was the Dark One? Did no one in this town believe that the Darkness was more powerful than the Saviour, borne of True Love. “All I need is your trust.” And your love. “I promise.” She held his gaze, despite the gnawing feeling in her stomach that told her to just break down and tell him everything. She couldn’t. She needed to save him, protect him. So much for her being an open book to him, he couldn’t even see her through his hatred for the Darkness.
Killian studied her for a minute, his eyes never leaving hers. “I liked you the way you were. I liked your walls. I liked being the one to break them down.”
His use of the past tense brought another of her insecurities to the surface. Liked, not like, liked. Surely he still liked her? Surely he still felt for her the same way she did for him. No one could lose feelings that quickly. Tears that she hadn’t quite managed to push away in time welled up in her eyes and she took a step forward, clutching at the front of his leather jacket. “The person you found inside is still me.” She knew this next question was going to hurt, but she needed an answer. “I have a question for you, for once. Do you love me? If you tell me you don’t love me I will let you go.” She loved him so much, she didn’t know what she’d do if he said no. Tears burned her throat as she stared at him, waiting patiently for an answer.
“I loved you.”
Emma was careful not to let the hurt show on her face, but inside she felt like she was crumbling. Her breathing quickened and her heart stopped for far too long. Every bone in her body ached with the weight of his words. Everything between them was past tense now. There was no I love you, there was only I loved you. There was no I like your walls, only I liked your walls. At least for him anyway, she still loved him. She still liked his walls. And she would continue to love him, even if he no longer felt the same.
“I guess I’m either steering home or swimming home.” He clenched his jaw, the words coming through gritted teeth. “Tell me which.”
“The ship’s yours.” Her voice broke and a stray tear beaded at the corner of her eye. She gave him one last look, one last chance, before disappearing in a cloud of grey smoke.
As soon as her feet were back on solid ground, in the comfort of her house, Emma broke down. She hadn’t bothered to change back into the Dark One outfit, feeling more like herself in the dress she’d worn on their first date. She collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face, and pressed her back against the bed. She’d gone through all this trouble, taking her family's memories in order to protect the one she loved, the one who no longer loved her back.
If she could, she would have cried herself to sleep that night. But the Dark One didn’t sleep, they couldn’t. So instead, she settled for crying throughout the night, until her tears had run dry. She cried alone like she had done all those years ago, in the many foster homes she was bounced around too. She had never felt more unwanted in her life.