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Emma stared at the small box. It was open, inside lay a black stone.
The flame of Prometheus.
Well, it would be. If the damn thing ever lit.
She screwed her eyes shut and called forth her magic. It was easy, so much easier than before she'd taken the darkness. And the power. Oh the power.
It was indescribable, the way the magic made her feel, running through her veins. A rollercoaster she'd never get off of.
But she had to. Had to renounce the darkness. Light Prometheus' flame and reforge Excalibur.
“Need a light?”
Regina's voice had Emma jumping.
“Regina,” she sighed.
“I thought you could use a friend.”
Emma sighed, letting her head fall back. The Dark One in her head giggled. She gritted her teeth and turned to her once-enemy.
“He's playing with me,” Emma told her, “he said I can't light it because I'm not ready to let go of the darkness.”
“Are you?”
“Regina...”
“Hey,” Regina raised her hands, shrugging slightly, “no one knows the lure of the darkness better than I do.”
Stepping closer to Emma she spoke in earnest, her eyes betraying nothing but sincerity, “you can lie to your parents, you can lie to yourself,” she said, “but you can't lie to me.”
Emma gritted her teeth. Regina was right, she was the one person Emma couldn’t lie to. The one person who could see right through her, deep into her soul, and know exactly what lay there. Regina knew her, through and through.
“I don't know,” she admitted. Was she ready to get off the rollercoaster? To come down off her high?
“Feels good, doesn't it?” Regina asked, walking closer, "Indulging every impulse, wielding great power, doing whatever you want.”
The voice of experience. Emma averted her eyes from her friend.
“Yes,” she said, “yes it does. Is that wrong?”
Regina laughed, a hollow sound, mirthless, “of course it is,” she said, “but it's also human. Look I know you Emma,” she stopped, taking a breath, “it took a long time, but I really know you” she shook her head, pushing her hair out of her face, “you're not as weak as I once was, so if you're clinging to the darkness you have good reason. And it's beyond temptation,” Regina stepped closer, just a step away from her, “so what is it?”
“I don't know,” Emma replied instinctively, she knew there was a reason. Of course there was. But she was afraid. Afraid to know what that reason was. Why did she cling to the power? To the darkness?
“There's a difference between not knowing something, and not wanting to admit it.” Regina said, quietly, “those walls you put up Emma, it's time they come down,” reaching into her sleeve, Regina extracted the Dark One’s dagger.
Emma flinched away from the object, the one thing able to control her. That she had entrusted Regina, knowing she’d only use it in case of real need.
This felt disproportionate.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Helping you break the walls,” Regina raised the dagger at eye level, “as your friend,” she said, “I command you, dark one, tell me, why are you so afraid to give up the darkness?”
Emma swallowed back bile, the dagger’s magic working its way through her. It was unpleasant, being forced to reveal one’s innermost secrets.
“Once I let it go I won't be able to protect my family,” she spat out, the first thing that came to mind.
Regina saw right through her lie, “That's another wall Emma, now the truth.”
“It is,” Emma tried again, it hurt, the dagger’s hold on her, “Regina, please.”
“No it's not,” there was no leniency in her voice, “you just have to be brave enough to knock down all those walls you're hiding behind,” Regina insisted, “the dagger can make you look but you have to choose to see, now come on! Come on, Emma, see , tell me what you're really afraid of!”
Emma closed her eyes, concentrating. What Regina was doing was painful, bordering on cruel. But she was right, Emma was lying to herself. There was a reason the flame of Prometheus was still unlit. If Emma couldn’t figure out why that was, she’d never be rid of the darkness.
“Regina, what are you doing?” her father’s voice cut through Emma’s thoughts, and her eyes flew open.
“I'm getting answers,” Regina growled, her hand still wrapped around the dagger.
“By controlling her?” Hook cried, he snatched the magical object from Regina’s hand, “that's enough!”
Emma closed her eyes, it did feel good, to no longer be controlled. But she’d been so close to an answer…
“Are you alright?” Killian asked her, concern permeating his voice.
Emma turned and headed into the forest. She needed to be alone.
Wandering through the thick woods, Emma held the box close to her chest, as if afraid someone might steal it. No one could steal from her anymore. She was the Dark One. The most powerful magic wielder in the world.
Was that why she didn’t want to let go of it? Power?
Emma had always believed herself to be above that, above the mere hunger, the craving that so many seemed to fall prey to.
Wasn’t that why she’d taken it in the first place?
That night, when the darkness had been set free from Rumplestiltkin’s body, when it had circled Regina, threatening to invade her.
Why had she taken it?
Because she’d believed she was stronger. Stronger than Regina And she couldn’t bear to see her friend fall victim to it once again. What would Regina have done with the darkness? Unspeakable things. Of that, she was certain.
Regina thought so, too. She thought so highly of Emma, her words echoed through Emma’s mind.
You’re not as weak as I once was.
That was why she’d taken the darkness. To save Regina. How could she watch her destroy herself? After everything she’d been through, to come back, to become good again.
Emma sat down on a fallen log, pushing off her white cape and enjoying the feel of the sun on her skin.
Regina. Emma had taken on this burden for her.
Because that’s what friends do.
She supposed, she’d never had a friend before.
It had felt right, in that moment. She could not let Henry’s mother slip into the darkness again.
Placing the box at her feet, Emma thought of her friend, her dark eyes coming into focus. Then her smile, the way she laughed when Emma said something stupid or funny or irrational. Swallowing Emma opened her eyes, the flame was still unlit.
She had taken the darkness for Regina, and she’d give it up for her, too. She had to. Otherwise…
Otherwise what?
She’d lose her respect.
Emma shook her head, her thoughts were veering into strange territory. Into places she hadn’t explored since she’d first arrived in Storybrooke. Since she’d found out Henry had been right, and Regina was the Evil Queen.
She’d given up any hope of…of them, that day.
Now, she had someone else. Someone who hadn’t tried to kill her. Not explicitly anyway. Someone who wanted to move in with her, just as soon as the darkness was gone. As soon as they were back home.
Pulling out the newspaper ad Henry had shown her, Emma read over it again. She’d have it memorized soon.
It was an ad for a home in Storybrooke, a two story single family home. Everything she should want. Everything she’d never had. A loving boyfriend, doting parents, her son, a home. Her best friend.
She looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching, Regina appeared from between two trees. She neared slowly.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting down next to Emma, “I didn’t mean to push you so hard. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Emma shook her head, “You didn’t hurt me, Regina, you were right, I need to face whatever it is that’s keeping me from lighting this stupid thing,” she kicked the box lightly, not enough to knock it over.
“Any ideas?”
Emma closed her eyes, the paper in her lap burned through her skin. If she told Regina the truth, there was no coming back from that. No more best friends.
She turned to Regina and held up the newspaper.
“It’s this,” she said, handing it over, “Killian wants to ask me to move in, Henry told me.”
Regina read it over, one eyebrow rising. When she was done, she glanced at Emma, “and you don’t want to move in with him?” she asked.
Emma sighed. If only it were that simple.
Except. Maybe it was.
“No,” she admitted, “I’m afraid this whole relationship has been…” she swallowed, “a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Regina asked, there was no judgment in her voice. Like Emma knew there wouldn’t be.
“I was so focused on finding my happy ending, my true love,” Emma crumpled the thin paper between her fingers, “I wanted what my parents have, and I projected it onto the first man I saw who was interested in me.”
Regina said nothing to this, her face betrayed no emotion. Her eyes, however, sparkled. Emma held back a laugh. She should have known; Regina had never liked Killian, he’d never been enough for Emma, according to her.
“The irony of it is,” Emma continued, walking towards the precipice, “I think what I was looking for was right beside me all along,” she jumped into nothingness, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
There was no response from the woman sitting next to her, and Emma couldn’t bring herself to look over at her. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if she didn’t understand? Emma wasn’t sure she had it in her to explain what she’d meant.
“Oh,” Regina said, finally.
It wasn’t much of a response.
Emma gathered her courage and looked up at her. Meeting her dark gaze.
“I think that’s what I’ve been afraid of,” she admitted, “going back to normalcy, back to someone I’m not sure is right for me, back to pretending I don’t care about…” the word you stuck in her throat.
Again, there was silence.
Emma wanted to scream.
“Look, Regina,” she said, “I don’t know how to tell you this, what you said, earlier? You’re right, you do know me. And I know you, through and through. I can’t lie to you, and you can’t lie to me, it’s like we’re in sync, like we’re…” she stopped, there was still no response, and her heart sank in her chest.
“Nevermind,” she said, “I never should’ve said anything,” she got up. She needed space, needed to breathe. She’d been selfish, what she and Killian had was good. What she and Regina had was enough. It had to be enough. Now she’d gone and destroyed it.
“Wait, Emma,” Regina stopped her, taking her arm. She stepped closer, almost in Emma’s space.
“I’m sorry I,” she looked away, “I wasn’t sure what to say.”
“I get it,” Emma said, “you don’t feel the same way, you don’t need to spell it out for me,” the darkness in her head was screeching, begging to be let out.
“You’re wrong,” Regina said, she smiled, then her hand rose, finger stroking Emma’s jaw.
“I do feel the same,” she leaned forward, her lips pressing to Emma’s.
Emma’s heart threatened to explode in her chest.
This. This was right. This was what she’d been looking for.
The flame of Prometheus lit.