Hello Sweet Doves! I couldn't resist. I do hope you enjoy my dark take on season 1. Let me know what you think!

Enjoy Lovelies!

Songs: Rescue Me by Kerrie Roberts and Running up That Hill by Placebo (I prefer Within Temptation's version, but this one suit's the mood of the story better.)

Emma Swan was a lone wolf. She never cultivated friendships beyond one night. She tracked down criminals during Thanksgiving and Christmas because they always went home to mama every single time. The money she made from the end of November through the beginning of January filled her bank account with enough cash to support her for the rest of the year. For the past three years, she paid her bills, bought herself a Christmas present (this year had been a form-fitting dark red leather jacket), and tucked the rest away in a savings account.

For her birthday, she bought herself a cupcake from her favorite pastry shop, a little hole-in-the-wall place she'd discovered when she lived in South Boston, and a small baggie of heroin from the back of the same shop, enough for one high if she chose to use it. They trusted her there, despite her career choice. Her promise remained the same every year: they weren't her responsibility until they got caught and skipped bail. She always used cash for both, limiting the trail between her and her beloved shop.

They'd been her friends once until she'd cleaned herself up and discovered they valued loyalty to their product more than loyalty to them as people. She and the woman behind the counter, Casey, met each other in prison nearly eleven years ago and traveled together until Boston. They were admitted on the same day and endured the detox and rehab program addicts completed before being moved to a proper cell. It brought them together in more ways than one, and Emma thought she'd found a friend, someone to partially share her life with and lean on.

When Emma was released, she'd hung around and waited six more months for Casey to get out as well, and then they took off together. Neither of them wanted to stay in one place for long, and no matter where they went, drugs seemed to follow. So when one came home to find the other with their bags packed and twitching in the beginning stages of withdrawal, the other immediately dropped her life, quit her job, and pointed to a place on the map. That's how they'd decided on their new location every time except last year, but the method of selection mattered very little to Emma. Criminals jumped bail everywhere, and every city had a rehab program.

They moved, spent a portion of Emma's savings on another rehab program and promised each other they'd stay clean that time and finally settle down. Casey grew up in Boston and wanted to come home, so they'd moved here together almost three years ago. She promised Emma that she'd not fall back into old habits of dealing and using, like she always had, but Emma decided that she'd make good on that vow when they moved to Boston, not knowing Casey's entire family ran a heroin ring, her blessed drug of choice.

Casey made her choose, and she'd chosen herself. She lacked the strength to go through rehab one more time. Every year on her birthday, she visited Casey under the guise of buying herself a cupcake because she couldn't bare facing it alone. Casey had been her only comfort and support for the past eleven years, and Emma missed her terribly, so much that she almost bought heroin to give to her friend, just to see her again. Her family kept a close watch on her and her relationship with the bail bonds person.

Her first birthday in Boston came only a month after they'd moved, and Casey smiled happily when she walked through the door. She looked good, tired from working seven days a week in her mother's pastry shop but healthy. Emma thought perhaps Casey had found her strength in her family and no longer needed her fix. She bought a baggie of heroin and told Casey that one person at a time would be helped because she'd buy a bag every year on her birthday and throw in out. Casey grinned and agreed with her method of contribution.

Her second birthday saw a dramatic decline in Casey's health, and Emma's heart broke. She barely looked at her as she ordered the cupcake and then marched to the back and ordered two baggies of heroin. She tossed money at Casey's older brother in disgust at his healthy figure and clean teeth. He laughed at her back as she left. She offered Casey safe haven at her apartment, offered to pay for her rehab, but her friend refused, claiming she wasn't strong enough to do it if Emma wasn't coming with her. Emma left without another word. Guilt and grief filled her heart that night.

Her stomach clenched with anxiety and she took a deep breath. This year she swore she'd be forcing Casey to come with her, get her the help she needed and take care of her. Her motives weren't completely altruistic. She'd been alone for nearly three years, her only conversations were between her boss and the criminals she caught. At least Casey loved her, even if she had mostly used her for cash and a place to live over the years. She was the only person in the world Emma cared for, and she couldn't stand the loneliness anymore.

She smoothed her hands over red bombshell dress she'd used as a distraction for the mark she hauled in that night and opened the door. An older woman, probably Casey's mother, behind the counter looked up, exhaustion in her eyes, and pulled a boxed cupcake from behind the counter. She'd expected Emma, and the bonds person's heart sank.

"Where's Casey?" She forced out and swallowed the bile in her throat.

The woman only looked at her sadly, tears in those old tired eyes. Casey's brother stepped from the back room. He, too, looked worn and tired, but in much better spirits than his mother. He smiled and set three baggies of heroin on the counter by her cupcake. She glared at the man.

"Casey died a few months ago. Overdose," he explained and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"What?" Emma blinked rapidly and glanced between Casey's family, the people who were supposed to love her more than anyone else in the world. Anger exploded in her chest.

"Why didn't anyone call me?" She shoved the man into the counter and maintained a tight grip on his shirt as she got in his face. "I would have helped her! Why didn't anyone tell me it was this bad?" Her control hung by a thread, and she released the man before she did something stupid like punch the leader of a heroin ring in his place of business in South Boston.

"We didn't know. She told us that she had it under control," he explained as if it were a business transaction and straightened his clothes.

"How could you not know? I knew last year when I was here, and you people saw her every damn day! I was going to take her to a center tonight whether she wanted to go or not. You should have done it a year ago!" Emma screamed at them, fist clenched and spit flying.

"Why didn't anyone call me?" It was supposed to be fierce, spoken in anger, but she sounded like a broken little girl. Who would love her now?

Her heart deadened. She pulled a wad of cash from her bra and set it on the counter in exchange for the cupcake and drugs. She tucked the three baggies into her bra, thinking they felt fuller than her previous orders, and grabbed her cupcake.

"That's not enough. Those are bigger portions than last year. We upped our minimum order. 20 percent cash increase," he smiled and extended his hand. Emma almost puked on him.

"Consider my down payment made in emotional collateral," Emma tossed over her shoulder and reached between her legs for the hand gun strapped there. Just in case.

No one followed her, though, and she snapped the nylon strap over the butt of the gun when she locked herself safely in her yellow bug. Perhaps Casey's bastard brother had a heart after all. She took off immediately, figured that crying in her bug on this street was just asking for trouble. An obviously vulnerable and emotionally distraught woman dressed for a five star restaurant wouldn't have fared well in this part of town.

By the time she reached her modest apartment, her tears had dried. A pleasant hollowness settled into her chest, and she mechanically parked her car and traipsed to her apartment in defeat. No one would have missed her if she'd just ended everything. They probably wouldn't even have found her body until her savings account ran out and her superintendent came to toss her out on her head. She'd simply slip away into the ether, a nothing, a lost soul trapped in a desolate life met a tragic end.

She kicked off her heels and left them in the hallway and set the cupcake on the counter. She pulled the heroin from her bra and tossed it on the counter beside the box. She stared so long that her green eyes misted from lack of blinking, which lead to more tears. There was more than enough to do the job. One more blaze of glory. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her thumb. In the morning, if nothing healed her hopelessness, she joined Casey in the same manner.

The decision calmed her, filled her with peace. It was the right choice. She always felt so serene, and that's how she knew when she'd chosen the right path. She was done. There was nothing left for her in the world. She stuck the little blue star candle on top of her cupcake and lit it.

"Another banner year," she whispered sadly to herself and stared at the tiny flame waving happily to and fro. She closed her eyes and thought hard about what she wanted most.

I wish I didn't have to be alone on my birthday. Her face scrunched with the power of that wish. It was the only thing she'd ever wanted. She blew out the candle without opening her eyes, sending extra energy into the universe. What could it possibly hurt if she wished extra hard? Her eyes opened slowly, disappointment settling into her chest. What had she expected?

A knock at the door startled her, and her hand reached instinctively for her gun. She unhooked the safety strap and hiked her dress slightly. Maybe Casey's brother had followed her. What was his name? Why had she never asked for it? She stuffed the heroin back into her bra and approached her door slowly. With a steadying breath, she gripped the knob and jerked it open, hoping to catch the intruder off guard with the abruptness.

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion when no one awaited her. She glanced down to find the shining eyes of a little boy with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Are you Emma Swan?" He asked hopefully, and her eyebrows shot skyward. Why was this kid so familiar?

"Uhh, yeah? Who are you?" She studied his face hard, knowing she'd seen his features somewhere.

"My name is Henry. I'm your son."