She watches as Hook flies across the room and slams into a wall, body crumpling to the ground in a heap of leather. Debris are flying everywhere - this god damned Wicked Witch is really into the whole tornado thing – and its absolute mayhem inside the Town Hall. She eyes him carefully for a moment, letting out a breath when he slowly raises himself up, shaking his head hard.

Her eyes dart to Henry cowering next to her, arms raised protectively over his head and absolute rage rises inside of her - hot and burning and terrible.

She has had enough.

She stands from behind her crouched position behind the desk and locks eyes with the green-skinned Witch raising hell at the far end of the hall. The Witch's lips curl back over her teeth in a feral snarl as she snaps her wrist and Emma ducks smoothly as a chair goes whizzing over her head. Henry tries to pull her back down with him, but she ignores him.

"Alright lady, that's enough!"

Her voice is surprisingly loud over the chaos and the Wicked Witch of the West just grins. A shrill cackle is all she gets in response and Emma has to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

Sometimes her life is a joke.

Emma stands back up abruptly and the Witch eyes her coolly.

"Or what, my pretty?" Emma does roll her eyes at that one because really, this is absurd. The Witch's face is utterly gleeful - grin wide and malicious - and Emma can easily see how she's earned her nickname.

Emma's hair kicks up around her in the winds of the contained tornado and she flinches as another chair narrowly misses her. She half expects a cow to come tearing through next, with the way this day is going.

"Or I'll find a hose, you dumb bitch!"

Alright, so dumb bitch isn't the best insult she's ever come up with but she's got a lot on her plate at the moment, so she lets it slide. The Witch looks confused before both of their attention is suddenly diverted to where Hook leaps up from his comfortable face-plant on the floor.

"Emma, get down!" His eyes are so god damned blue and imploring and he looks terrified, already moving slightly towards her in the gale force winds. Emma's eyes snap back to the Witch as another shrill shriek sounds like a siren in the air and her stomach drops when she sees her green hands twisting in the air above her head. A dark cloud of smoke conjures out of nowhere and Emma knows what she's going to do a second before the spell is thrown directly at Hook.

The rage releases inside of her and she screams – a panicked no wrenching itself from her throat. Her hands reach out to him and a multitude of things happen at once.

White-hot heat explodes within Emma, starting in her chest and rushing outwards, down her arms and bursting through her fingertips. She stumbles forward with the force of it, watching in horror as the black cloud rushes at Hook. He gives her a single pained look before his eyes slam shut and his body braces itself for the blow. But just before the smoke touches his hunched body, it collides with an invisible barrier, rising up against it like steam on a mirror.

It takes a second for Emma to realize it's her.

More specifically - her magic.

She can feel it humming through her body and Jesus it feels good. It's intoxicating - the power - and she's heady with it. It's never been this strong before, never so electrifying. Her arm is still angled towards Hook and now she can see it – her magic extending straight out from her to him. God, she feels powerful.

Her eyes snap back to the Witch and she grins, slow and steady. The Witch has the intelligence to look just a little bit frightened.

"You have magic?" She whispers and Emma laughs because, god damn, she feels indestructible.

"Hell yeah I do." And she pushes out her other arm, effectively slamming the Witch against the wall by the door. The tornado slows and dissipates, leaving nothing but silence in its wake as the Witch struggles to sit up and grasp her bearings.

Her eyes meet Emma's and she cackles again, as if this whole situation has been nothing but positively delightful, before disappearing in a cloud of red smoke. David and Mary Margaret come skidding into the room just as Emma begins to shake, her entire body thrumming with her magic.

It's too much.

It's not enough. A dark whisper caresses her mind and she slams her eyes shut.

"Emma?" It's David and he sounds concerned but she can't focus on anything but this – her power. God, she just wants to consume, destroy, annihilate. She pulls her arms back against her sides and clenches her fists.

The windows shatter.

Mary Margaret screams and Emma's eyes flare open in horror. They lock on her father's – wide and scared.

Scared of her.

"Get Henry out." She grits and he doesn't wait a second longer, stepping closer to pull Henry into his arms. Henry shouts a protest, but David is insistent, locking him with strong arms over his shoulder. He grabs Mary Margaret with his free hand and bodily hauls them both out of there. She breathes a minor sigh of relief when they are out of eyesight but winces when she feels her magic crest within her.

The seductive whisper is back.

Consume.

Destroy.

"Emma." His voice is soft above her and when did she collapse to the floor? Everything is shaking and she can't focus. Her head is pounding and her chest is aching and it's too much – god, it's too much. A calloused hand grips the side of her face and tilts her head upwards. She blinks open her eyes and watches as a frown twists his lips, thumb sliding along the hollow of her eye.

She tastes blood.

Annihilate.

"Emma." He says again and she whimpers. Her fingers crawl along his forearms as she anchors herself – fingernails breaking the skin there with the force of her grip. He winces but keeps his eyes on her.

"Come back to me." He whispers.

"I can't." She sobs and he just smiles softly, eyebrow arching slightly in challenge. She tries to focus on it, on him, but it's too much and it's pulling her under and –

His lips cover hers.

She gasps as the power thrums in her veins, echoing the slow, sensual movement of his lips over hers. She kisses him back with a herculean effort, fingers clawing at him, desperate to hold on to something real. He holds her steady, thumb still running a gentle circuit against the apple of her cheek. The magic peaks and then collapses, rushing out of her abruptly.

He pulls back slightly, rubbing their noses together with affection before resting his forehead on hers. His eyes are twinkling and she breathes a sigh of relief - fingers releasing their death-grip on his skin, palms resting flat on his arms. She lets her eyes slide shut as his arms wrap firmly around her, tucking her into his chest.

She's so tired.

"My love?" She hums against him, too exhausted to overthink anything that just happened. She'll close herself off later.

"What's a hose?"