TW for seizing and pain.

Two Days

Emma was lost.

And in pain.

Two days had passed since that night in Storybrooke. It was a strange thing, watching the time pass right before her eyes. She was unable to move, barely able to think, and consumed with a thousand other thoughts and sensations at once. And yet, her overworked brain still insisted on counting how many times the sun had passed above her. Her time always seemed to be running out.

She wasn't exactly sure where she was. A beach of some kind – that much was obvious from the sand beneath her and the sound of the waves that would sometimes reach her feet as she lie there, unable to move out of the way. A constant, dark cloud cover blanketed the sky above her, threatening with every passing minute to erupt into a fierce thunderstorm. The ocean breeze would blow her hair around her head, sometimes into her face where it would stay until another wind blew it away. There were trees behind her that rustled in the cool air, the sound both pleasantly numbing and annoyingly loud.

There were no animals for miles, if she had to guess. She hadn't seen so much as a seagull pass overhead (otherwise, she would have counted them), and when the forest behind her wasn't moving with the wind, there was no sound at all. No crickets chirping or squirrels chittering. Besides the ocean, everything around her was dead silent.

It was probably the coming storm, she tried to reason when she could form coherent thoughts again. That was a thing, right? Animals got really quiet before a big storm hit, didn't they? But there was something wrong with that reasoning too. The clouds in the sky above her had been swirling like that for two days, not seeming to move anywhere or dissipate in any type of fashion. It was like everything – including the sky itself – was holding its breath. Everything was waiting… watching to see what was going to happen.

And she got the eerie feeling that everything was waiting on her.

Not that she was in any position to do anything at the moment. Everything hurt.

The pain had not stopped rolling through her body since she woke on the beach. When she had tried to open her eyes for the first time, her body had protested so much that she blacked out as soon as her eyes caught sight of the clouds above her. She took it slower the next time, managing to keep her eyes open for a few hours before she succumbed to blackness again when the feeling of breathing became too much.

Her entire body felt wrong, like a million little bugs were crawling beneath her skin and devouring her as slowly as they possibly could. Every attempted movement was answered with a blaze of fire igniting her tissue and making her wish she were still unconscious. The desire to tear her own flesh off of her bones was overwhelming, just not so overwhelming that it made her want to move.

But despite the physical pain, the pain in her head was much worse.

At first, it had started out as a sort of white noise playing in the back of her head. It wasn't too unbearable, but it was distinct. She even remembered hearing it as soon as she thrust her hand into that swirling vortex of darkness surrounding Regina. She heard it while she was unconscious, a constant, fuzzy din echoing in her head like it was its own presence.

As time went by, the sound changed. It grew steadily louder with each passing moment, but she only started to care when she could actively notice the headache, despite the agonizing pain throughout the rest of her body. It became so loud that by the time her first night on the beach was beginning to end, she was silently screaming to be blacked out again. Her ears had been ringing with a sound that wasn't even real. She couldn't think anymore. She couldn't do anything anymore. There had only been the noise in her own head that made her wish that the clouds above her would strike her with lightning and end her suffering.

Her body had begun to twitch, sending new pain shooting down through her limbs with the movement. Her head lolled to the side as her back started arching involuntarily from the pain. The jerking of her body became more and more violent, as her head screamed in agony, her arms and legs shaking and trembling of their own accord. Something in her mind quietly whispered that she was seizing when foam started to drip from her mouth onto the beach sand. She couldn't seem to open up her windpipe to breathe, and it felt like her lungs were going to explode in her chest.

All this, while the noise tore her brain apart until she passed out again.

When she awoke two hours later, the sound had changed. It wasn't as easy to ignore now, but it wasn't painfully loud, and for that, at least, she was grateful. No, what made it so hard to block out was that it seemed to be speaking to her. It was nothing coherent, no words or thoughts that she could make any sense of, but it was definitely saying something. It wasn't speaking loudly, more like whispering things to her that she didn't understand. It almost sounded like more than one person talking at once, but something told her that it wasn't.

As she had continued to lie there with the voice rattling off within her brain, she made the effort to turn her head back up to look at the sky. It was painful, but she had managed it, almost so relieved when she saw those dark clouds that she wanted to cry.

She stayed that way for another whole day, falling in and out of consciousness whenever her body decided it needed rest. Now, as she lie beneath that vortex of impending rain, her throat was parched, and she could feel her lips beginning to crack and bleed whenever she moved them. Her stomach was constantly growling, and soon she had to work to occupy her mind with anything else that wasn't food related.

Eventually, her thoughts had drifted back to that night, and her sacrifice. Specifically, they drifted back to that last look between her and Regina, the one she hadn't been able to get out of her head, where the both of them had shared one terrified, desperate look before Emma had thrust her hand into the darkness.

Regina had begged her to stop. She hadn't listened. Hadn't wanted to. Her mind had been set on doing this, on taking on the darkness, on protecting the mother of her child. In her mind, there hadn't been another option. It was either this, or loose Regina.

But of course, she had done it to save the others too… hadn't she?

She certainly hadn't been thinking of anyone else at the time. She had said her goodbye to Hook, but she found that the pull she felt towards him hadn't been nearly enough to make her stop. She had thought before that she had been doing this for everyone, for the town and for her family and friends. But all she could think about in that moment was Regina. Regina had to be saved from this. Regina didn't deserve this. She deserved better than to be yet another pawn in this sick game of light and darkness. She deserved peace and happiness. It couldn't be her.

So it had to be Emma.

Now, she looked back and tried to make herself feel bad for feeling that way, for putting Regina higher than anyone else. All of those people had been important, not just her. Every citizen of Storybrooke was important. Protecting Hook had been important. Protecting Robin for Regina's sake had been important. But as much as she knew that she should be ashamed for putting a certain priority on one, while ignoring the others… she couldn't really bring herself to care.

Most of those people caused her more trouble than they were worth anyway. Aside from a few like Archie and Ruby, they all treated her like she was a tool for securing their own happiness. Forget her wants and desires – if Leroy and the Six Other Dwarves weren't happy little clams, she had work to do. She had saved that town and its people countless times, and what had they ever done to thank her? Nothing.

There were other exceptions. There were her parents, of course, and Hook who all loved her and actively reminded her of how important she was to them. There was Robin, who, despite her blatant and sometimes unexplainable dislike for the man, made Regina happy, and therefore was important. And of course, there was Henry; her and Regina's brilliant boy who she was so proud of, she didn't have the words. All of them had been more important to her than the other people in that town, as harsh a truth as that was.

But Regina had still been the only priority then. Regina had always been there, if not thanking her in some way for saving the town or Henry, then saving the town or their son right along side her. A few times, even by herself. Regina had believed in her, had encouraged her, and challenged her, and made her want to be better everyday. She wanted to be someone the brunette could depend on, just as Regina had become someone for Emma to depend on.

Henry, her parents, Hook, and Hood had all been worth saving. She was happy that they would be alright.

But her last thought before exhaustion took her again on that beach was a desperate wish that back home, Regina was happy and safe… and proud of her.

Five days.

She isn't.

She is. I know her. She believes in me.

She hates you.

She doesn't.

She's rejoicing by now. She has everything she could ever hope for.

Stop.

She has her son all to herself.

Our son.

She is happy with her true love.

I don't want to hear this.

I wonder what she's like when she's in love. Probably less of a bitch, I'd wager.

She's always had light within her. She's always been good.

Certainly not while I was training her. You must be thinking of a different Regina.

You twisted her. You manipulated her and made her believe the darkness was the only way.

It i s the only way. She got what she wanted in the end, didn't she?

She suffered! She suffered because you wanted her to, because you needed a pawn to get to my world. She could have been happy a long time ago. She could have had a good life, if not for your ambition.

I may have guided her hand, but everything that she did, she did voluntarily. She was never a victim, and she knows it. Her suffering made her who she is, and I know that you're partly grateful for it. She wouldn't be – what was that phrase swimming around in that dream of yours? – Your Regina , if she hadn't done what she did. You never would have had Henry if she hadn't become the Evil Queen. What are you so upset about?

You're right, she did get what she wanted, and I am grateful for her time in the darkness, because eventually, she became stronger than you. She was better than you. She beat you, became more than you ever imagined. She has light and dark magic. She is more powerful than you could ever hope to be. But I sacrificed my life to protect her from you. What makes you think that I wouldn't sacrifice the same thing and more to take her back before she had to endure so much pain, if she asked me to?

So valiant. That'll fade with time. I must say, you're much more interesting than my usual hosts.

At least one of us is entertained.

I wonder what she's like in bed.

Shut up.

Do you think Robin just rams it in as hard as he can? She seems like someone who would like it rough.

I said shut up!

I know that you've thought about it. I live in here now, remember? I never knew it was possible for a person to be so consumed with jealousy and not realize it before.

Jealous of Regina?

Fool. Jealous of that ludicrous bandit.

Don't be ridiculous.

I'm in your head, dearie. You can't hide your thoughts from me.

You don't control me.

You're right, I don't. Not yet.

You will never control me.

But I will. In fact, I'm already coming up with a splendid plan for when I do. Would you like to hear it?

No.

Alright, you're going to like this. First, I'll travel back to that retched town you call home and destroy everything I can. You hated it there anyway. You hated those people. You'll be glad when they're gone, I promise.

I won't let you.

Next, I think I'll kill your parents. And that dreadful boyfriend of yours. We can do much better.

I won't let you get within a hundred miles of them!

Next, I think I'll kill this Robin character for you. As slowly and painfully as I possibly can. Perhaps I'll kill him in front of Regina. She always did like watching good torture back in the day.

Fuck you!

Last, I have to say that your boy will have to go.

I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill myself before you touch Henry!

Now now, settle down. The boy is weighing you down anyway. You're much better off without him meddling in affairs that have nothing to do with him. Also, I haven't finished speaking.

I don't want to hear anymore!

You don't have a choice. Besides I think you're going to like the last bit. The part where we take Regina for ourselves.

She isn't ours to own.

Well she wouldn't have a choice in the matter of course. Besides, she would look absolutely delicious in nothing but chains, don't you think?

I hate you. When I find a way to get you out of my head, I'll make sure you suffer more than anyone else who has ever lived.

Will you make me beg for death?

Yes.

And will you leave me to suffer longer, the more that I beg you?

Yes!

And will you take immense pleasure from watching me writhe at your mercy until I'm nothing more than a broken shell of what I used to be?

YES!

You sound more like the Dark One already.

And there, on the beach where she still lay after five days, she felt her heart drop in her chest. She had been fighting so hard, fighting against the whispers in her head that had eventually solidified into a dark parody of her own voice that seduced with every word. She'd been fighting against the Dark One for control of her own body, for dominance within her mind, and for the light she could still feel struggling to stay alive within her heart.

All of a sudden, with the Dark One's statement, she realized how futile it all was. This was a loosing battle. The Dark One would win. She would lose control sooner or later, and she would no longer be the Savior. She would be nothing but hatred and malice and wrath, with more power than she knew what to do with. She wouldn't be able to stop herself from destroying the town. She wouldn't be able to protect her friends, her parents, her son, or Regina. When she realized that she might not even want to by the time she got that bad, she wanted to scream.

She would hurt the people she loved more than anything, and she wouldn't even care.

It took her a very long time to notice that she was crying. When she did, she nearly stopped completely at the realization that she was no longer in pain. She didn't want to do anything too fast, so she tried moving a finger. She winced in expectation of the fire that was always accompanied with movement, but it never came. There was no pain at all.

Slowly, she began to sit up, her sore and underused muscles protesting, but she found herself nearly moaning in pleasure at the sensation. It was so much better than the pain from before that she enjoyed something so new. It was good to move again.

But the first things she noticed once she was sitting up again were her hands.

Gone was the peach pale skin she had known so well, and in its place was a strange and disturbing combination of speckled gold and green. Her nails were sharp and black as midnight, and the once smooth texture of her palms was now as rough as sand paper. When she went to roll up her sleeves, she found that her arms were covered with the same gold-green hue, with a few small, bizarre-looking scales where her skin had been thick when she had been… human.

It was then that everything truly sunk in. This was her fate, her reality. This wasn't a story from a book that happened a long time ago in a land she had never heard of. This wasn't some alternate reality where nothing was true and she could still fight for a way to wake up from the dream. This was all terrifyingly, painfully real.

She was the Dark One. She carried the greatest and most terrible power of all the realms, and she seemed to be powerless to stop it from consuming her.

She knew she should fight. Henry would want her to fight. Regina would want her to fight. Echoes of "You're a hero," and "You're better than this," had her heart beating faster, almost as if the two of them were encouraging her from within. The tears started to pour again. She couldn't fight. She was too weak. The Dark One was too strong. She was nothing in comparison. She couldn't fight it. Her failure was inevitable. She would disappoint them.

You already have.

As night fell once more, she began to weep. She could feel the Dark One's triumph from within her, like it was celebrating its victory over her already. She cradled her head in her hands as the feeling grew, and she seemed to loose more and more control over her own emotions. She began to rock back and forth while her headache returned, a taunting reminder of the strengthening guest living inside her. Her pain and her shame grew infinitely larger until she couldn't take it anymore.

She tilted her head up to the sky and screamed.

It was loud and hoarse and tortured, the scream of someone in the most desperate kind of pain. It was the kind that begged for release, for death, for freedom from the worst kind of torment imaginable. She wanted to die. She wanted to kill that thing inside her and know that Henry and Regina would never have to be in danger again.

Instead, she felt an unbearable pang within her chest when she realized that the only thing they had left in the world to fear, was her.

Magic crackled around her, a red electricity lighting the air surrounding her body on fire. The heavens finally boomed with a tumultuous roar of thunder as her agony swelled. Rain started to pour from the pent up clouds, and lightning flashed almost constantly in the tempest above. Particles of sand began to levitate around her, coaxed by the uncontrollable power shooting through her veins.

And as she screamed, she swore she could hear the Dark One laughing at the sound.

Seven Days.

It was no surprise to either of them that when she had finally left the beach, she had made her way to Regina's castle. The strange, curving spires of the Dark Palace stretched up into the air before her, as mean-looking and menacing as ever. But she hadn't been afraid. In fact, from the moment she had laid eyes on the foreboding structure she felt more comfort than she had in a long time.

Her journey there had been much harder than she expected it to be. Ever since her outburst in the sand, the sky above her had been relentless in its downpour. The storm raged on for hours after she had finally fallen back down on the beach in exhaustion, and then days after that when she told herself that she couldn't stay. To make her muddy, wet, and miserable journey worse, the voice in her head had prattled on endlessly. She would ignore most of it as best she could, but the Dark One hadn't made it easy.

Seeing the place Regina had once called home buoyed her for a while. She felt almost like Regina was still there with her, supporting her and talking her down as the darkness tempted her. The palace had once been something dark and evil to the world and people around it. All Emma could think now was that she had never seen a building more beautiful in her entire life.

When she walked inside she couldn't help but laugh to herself. If Regina could have seen the state of the place, she would have had a fit. Dust covered every surface of the interior, from the entrance hall to the storage closets. A few spiders had made their happy homes wherever they pleased, and she could feel the life of more than a hundred rats living in the dungeons below.

With a wave of her hand, the palace was impeccable once again, and she smiled, thinking that perhaps Regina would have been pleased with her.

The other woman would be appalled, however, at the blonde's current attire. During her walk through the woods (which the Dark One had almost immediately pointed out as the Enchanted Forest) her clothes started to tear just from brushing against her course skin. Everywhere there had been friction, the fabric came apart like tissue paper. She might as well have been stripping. The Dark One laughed at her within her head, laughed at the ridiculousness of the Savior trying to cope with her new form. The Dark One laughed at her futile attempts to be normal.

Perhaps Regina would have something in her wardrobe that could withstand her new… texture.

After getting lost a few times, she finally made her way into what had to be Regina's old bed chambers. Everything was grand and spacious and any wall that wasn't a floor-to-ceiling opening onto a balcony was covered with a hundred ornate mirrors. With a flick of her wrist, she lit the neglected fireplace and smiled when its light bounced around the room, reflected a thousand times over by Regina's favorite decorations.

She set about exploring the rest of Regina's old rooms, a place that Emma could only describe as looking like an expensive, gothic New York penthouse. Aside from the lovely vanity she had seen a dozen times in Henry's book, the room was decorated exactly how Regina had once described it. A large four-poster bed with dark, silk sheets was against one wall, while a small couch and an armchair sat opposite. A table was centered in the middle where Regina had taken her meals with her father, who's room was just a door away. The closet was through a door on the farthest wall from the entrance, and was just as enormous as Emma thought it would be.

She remembered once asking Regina just how large a space she had needed for her expansive collection of clothes. She could still picture the embarrassed blush that had risen to the brunette's cheeks. She had looked incredibly adorable.

Pulling herself out of the memory, Emma started looking for something she could wear, trying not to touch anything that looked too thin or delicate for fear she'd tear it to shreds. She found a few stylish pieces of leather, but even they felt too thin to the touch, and she had no doubt that she'd end up ripping them too.

It wasn't until she reached the very back of the closet when she found something that peaked her interest. Hanging up on the rack was a coat made of some kind of material she had never seen before. It shone like leather, and seemed just as thick, but the pattern of it made her feel like she was looking at a lizard.

It's dragon hide. The fool before you used to wear it as well. It was the only thing that could handle our… combined state.

Dragon hide. She ran her hand down the material, liking the feeling of something not coming apart at her touch. Unfortunately, the coat was the only piece of clothing Regina seemed to own that was made out of the stuff, and it definitely wasn't Emma's style.

You know, for someone with now limitless power and of at least average intelligence, you truly are an idiot. Make the clothes yourself, dumbass.

Emma scowled at the voice that rang in her ears. Life had been hard enough with just one voice in her head.

It's your own damn fault for sticking me in here. I had been going for your lover, but you had to play the hero.

"Regina is not my… lover," Emma said aloud. Despite her denial, she couldn't stop the images that came to her at the idea. Suddenly, her mind was plagued with the possibilities of what might have been. She was consumed with intimate meals and stolen kisses and the faint smell of apples coming from slightly bronzed skin. Her heart fluttered as she pictured that soft smile - one that she had received a dozen times before - in an entirely new light. A smile that now promised a thousand whispered nothings and endless nights of passion and even longer days of tender, compassionate love.

The Dark One was laughing now. She shut her eyes, trying to block out the noise.

Such a fool you are. Aren't you supposed to be picturing all of this disgusting nonsense with that halfwit pirate of yours? Wasn't your last confession that you loved him?

She did love Hook. She had loved Hook. She hadn't known if she would ever see him again. She had to tell him while she was still around to say it at all.

So you told him out of desperation then? I'm going to enjoy ridding your life of him, I think. He makes you act like a child, clinging to the first set of arms that open to you. You're weak, so desperate for the love that you were denied as a child, that you don't even care who gives it to you now.

She was weak. She had told Hook how she felt as soon as it became clear that she wouldn't have to deal with the "what comes after." She was a coward. She was a coward for not telling Hook that she loved him sooner, but she was also a coward for being with him in the first place. Hook loved her more desperately than anyone else ever had. He would never even dream of leaving her. He was safe, the option she had for herself that involved taking no risk with her heart whatsoever. She could be happily stagnant with Hook for the rest of her life, and she would never get hurt.

Aside from the hurt she caused herself.

This is why you need me, Savior. Now that I'm here, we won't settle for anything. We take what we want. We have the power to get what we want. You never have to fear anything again. You never have to put up with anything again. The people back in that town will bow before us as their superior. I'll rid you of that shallow devotion you feel to the fool pirate, and get you what you most desire. Regina can be ours.

"She's with Robin," Emma said, numbly.

So we kill him! You hate him anyway. The way that he always has to have a hand on her, like she belongs to him drives you insane. The way that he always assumes that she'll do the right thing, like she's become the laughable fairytale archetype of a "good guy" that you despise so much, makes you doubt the validity of soul mates at all. He doesn't belong with her, he doesn't even understand her. But you do. We do. We know that she isn't all sunshine and roses like he wants to believe. She has darkness within, just like you do now. But she's being held back by him.

"Held back?" Emma's mind was spinning. Somehow… she felt like what the Dark One was saying was… right.

He expects her to be this reformed beacon of light. She isn't. But she's being forced to hold her true nature back for the sake of her man. We could set her free. We could unlock that darkness again, make her happy again.

"No… she wasn't happy when she was dark." The protest came out as a whisper.

Who are you kidding? She was powerful. You know the feeling, Emma. I was there on the beach when you caused the storm, remember? Deep down, you loved having so much control over everything around you. The world bends to your every whim! Would you like to tell me how such a feeling was anything but euphoric? Regina felt like that once, back when she had no leash, when she didn't have any obligations except to herself. Don't you want to give her that feeling again?

"You said… that you wanted to see her in chains," Emma spat, the memory shooting up to her through the fog that clouded her mind.

Well…. Do you think such a freedom is just given, Swan? She's been conditioned now to believe that she has light. It will take time to… recondition her.

"You're a monster. I'm not listening to you anymore."

I already told you that you don't have a choice! Everyday that we spend bound together, I grow stronger. Everyday, more of your precious light gets snuffed out, and I take over more and more of your soul. You cannot escape me. You were even agreeing with me! Soon, the fog in that pretty little head of yours will be so thick, that you won't be able to see the right or wrong in anything. We have power. We decide what is right and what is wrong. I will show you what it is to be in control of your wants and desires, and you will love how good it feels with such passion, that you will never be sorry for what you lost to get here.

And then, her hand moved.

It was just a flick of her wrist, the slightest movement that she probably wouldn't even notice on a normal day. She might have passed it off as a twitch. Except that it wasn't. It had been a deliberate move – an involuntary, deliberate move.

The Dark One had moved Emma's hand.

The Dark One had controlled the movement of Emma's hand.

Before she even had time to panic, the clothing on her body shifted and changed. Instead of the tattered, dirty white sweater and ripped, dark jeans she had on before, she now wore a fitted, black waistcoat, tight, black pants, and black, knee-high boots that looked like they were made to kill.

And every last piece of the outfit was made of dragon hide.

I have the power. I control everything.

Just for show, her wrist moved again and added a fitted, black jacket to the ensemble that was tinged with just the slightest bit of red.

Look at that. I even added your color.

Emma tried to take a minute to control her breathing, but something was physically keeping her from calming down. Every few breaths would get caught in her chest and then she would struggle to get any air in at all.

Oh, are you having a little trouble breathing? I can't even imagine what it must be like to not have control over your own body.

"B…bastard," she managed, though the word sounded as strangled as she felt.

Soon, you'll come to realize that I am the best thing that ever happened to you. They all realize that eventually.

Emma's vision started to swim. She was light-headed and reeling from the panic she felt from not having complete control of her body. Her eyes grew wide and she feel to her knees on the closet floor. She was scared. She wanted it all to stop. She wanted to go back home and bury her head in her pillows and hide beneath the comforter. She wanted someone to tell her that she was going to be alright. She wanted to feel safe and light again.

She wanted Regina.

I'll get her, Emma. You needn't worry about that.

And with that black reassurance, she passed out.

Fourteen Days.

Her breathing was shallow. Her heart pounded in her chest. She could feel every inch of her body awaken as this new sensation took over. The Dark One screamed inside her head.

The Dagger. Someone was calling her.

The pull she felt was undeniable to the point of near pain. The desire to appear before this new master – to please this new master - was overwhelming, but something within her took comfort in it. The Dark One – the demon living within her that had slowly but steadily been taking over her mind and body – was not in control. It wasn't the most desired thing, since she would still have to bow to the whim of another, but anything was better than being controlled by the darkness. After fighting against it for so long, she could have wept at the relief she felt now as it shrank back into the recesses of her mind, as if it could hide from the call.

With a slight smile, she shut her eyes and let her magic pull her to her savior.

She appeared on her knees, her head bowed before the feet of the bearer.

"How may I serve you, Master?" she asked, loving the way the Dark One seemed to seethe at the words.

"Emma?"

Her heart stopped.

No. It was impossible.

Emma knew that who she heard now was back home in Storybrooke, safe and happy, and most certainly not in the Enchanted Forest. Most certainly not putting herself in terrible danger just by being around her.

The Dark One roared with laughter and triumph. This couldn't have played out any better. This could be turned around very easily. The Dark One was back in control, even if the Dagger was in the hands of another.

This will be a fun game for us to play, Swan.

Emma looked up slowly, the devastation clear in her eyes as she looked upon her new… Mistress.

"Regina."