Chapter Text
title: Reflection
summary: Regina Mills sits alone at her vanity, her thoughts about the Dark Swan running rampant.
disclaimer: Baha. Really, they’re not mine. Trust me, I couldn’t be any more aware of the fact that they’re NOT mine. Because if they were, well, you should know by now - it’d be Swan Queen All Day Err Day up in that TV show. Definitely not mine, and just a tribute to the wonderful Adam and Eddy!
additional notes: One shot Regina Mills POV. Swan Queen. This is second person which may not resonate with a lot of fanfic readers, but it’s raw and gets to the heart of things. This was a writing exercise I gave myself in order to get out of a rut with another story, but I decided to share. I hope you enjoy!
……………………………
It’s always when you’re alone and not staring at your planner that the pain begins to creep in; when you have to turn to the mirror and face your own self, that’s when you allow your famous Mask to fall. It’s so much easier running and organizing other people’s lives, to delve wholeheartedly into the functioning of an entire city. It gives you purpose, makes you feel important, but it also takes you away from the hidden secrets of you own mind. It takes you away from what’s actually real.
You sit daintily at your vanity, taking great care to not really look into the mirror, not just yet. So you stare at your hands and admire the OPI "Thrill Of Brazil" that is brushed heavily upon those perfectly filed nails. Red polish, of course, but tonight it just reminds you of all the blood you have on your hands, as well. All the people you killed – some of them deserved it, you tell yourself with a decisive nod and scowl on your face. Many of them didn’t, though, and that’s the part that keeps you up at night. That’s the part that still rips your heart to shreds.
That’s right. Your fucking heart. Why? Why does it feel so much? Why can’t it just be cold and calculating like your mothers? Oh and then that’s another subject entirely. Your mother. Your fucking unbelievable mother. You love her so damn much, but not a fucking thing you did was ever good enough for her.
No, she just used you like everybody else in your entire life has.
Ok, that’s not true. Henry has never used you. Sure, he needed you as a baby, and he still needs you as a teenager. He’s been mad at you before, but now that’s in the past. Kids get mad at their parents, especially if their parents are keeping secrets from them. And he was never dumb; you should have never treated him like he was. You should have just told him from the beginning. But that’s also in the past, and he’s forgiven you. He’s as loving as he ever was, maybe more so now that he finally understands you and knows your true past.
No, Henry never used you.
And neither has Emma, really.
And now your top lip is twitching into a subconscious sneer, because really, Emma Swan? Emma. Fucking. Swan. That insufferable, ridiculous, undeniable idiot – she’s never used you, either. She’s actually never had anything but the best of intentions for you, and you realize that now; now that it’s too late, of course. After she’s sacrificed her life, sacrificed her soul, for you - for your “happiness”. Yes, now you know. Now you know she never really did anything but love you. Even when she hated you, she still loved you. That’s just how she was.
Fucking idiot Savior.
And screw it, because you honestly can’t deny that you always loved her, too. Even when you fucking hated her, you still fucking loved her. You were just too selfish, too angry, too hateful to see how deeply your feelings had always been (and that lingering, stinging fact that those feelings had always been reciprocated), because pushing her away and wielding your Evil Bitch Card was way easier than accepting this pure, beautiful woman into your heart.
And then you were just jealous. You were jealous of that flea-bag Pirate with his stupid hook and his ridiculous man-swagger. You wanted to smudge his eyeliner all over his stupid face and then rip his god damned heart out every time you saw him. It would have been so nice, you think, to have reached into that hairy chest of his, to sink your claws beneath all his flesh and pull that weak organ from his body, to crush it with all your strength until dust blew from your fingers and sailed away into the wind.
Why couldn't you have just told her how you felt when you realized it? You could hardly deny it anymore after you chose to save her over Robin.
Oh great, and now you’re crying. Crying! Ha. You’re shedding actual real tears for that stupid, stupid blonde, now that she’s gone.
You frantically wipe at your face, not wanting to accept that you could be reduced to emotions of grief for the woman you never wanted to love. It wasn't like she was actually dead, anyway. No, she's alive, but she's not quite the same as she was before. There's something missing from her eyes that you never realized you'd always sought refuge in; it's that little twinkling light in bright green orbs that is constantly facing a losing battle these days. Then there's something else there that had never been there before. It's something darker, more sinister. It washed over her face when you last saw her, muddying those sea green spheres into bubbling pits of tar.
But the Darkness has always wanted you, and you see it swirling around the Swan's tainted grip on reality, encouraging her to open up and swallow you whole at any given opportunity. And it might be nice, you know? After all these years, just finally give in and give over to the Darkness. You can't deny that the packaging became a lot more appealing after the dagger bore the name "Emma Swan".
And then you panic, and clutch your chest tight with one hand as your other flies to the concealed sheath at your thigh. Yes, oh yes thankfully, the dagger is still there. Emma's dagger. Miss "I'm Going to Fight for Your Happy Ending" Swan, Miss Righteous, Miss Savior, Miss Do-Gooder. Except you can't call her that anymore. Because that's no longer who she is.
You can't fail her, though. Not when your past is a riveting batch of failings. She was the one who made you see, and she was the one who gave you everything. Everything! She gave you Henry, she gave you strength. She gave you her life, and she gave you her soul. You owe it to her to rise above, and not let her down.
You look into the mirror, finally. What do you see? Brown. Just brown. No, wait - there's a fire brewing there, just under the surface. You weren't sure it was there, but yes, you see it now. You know what you have to do. Oddly enough, it's the part that's easiest to accept.
You're going to save her.
