A/N: I love Regina Mills with the intensity of a thousand suns. There, I said it. I really don't know what this is. I kinda enjoyed how Regina's thing with magic was reminiscent of an addiction. I just...I don't know, this is kind of train-of-thought and probably doesn't make much sense, but I had Regina feels, and I needed to share.

I do not own Once Upon a Time.


She promises she'll quit. She promises she'll never, ever do it again.

The thing is, she promises with a needle in her vein. She swears as soon as the tourniquet wraps 'round her arm, pinching and pulling blue little bloodletters to the surface.

She's sick, and she knows it.

Not even the little cricket can help her, and as much as she wants redemption, it's just so hard. She sounds like she's whining and she knows it, and mother always smacked her for whining. Always took her aside and up her dress, spanking her raw and she felt so embarrassed, so naked beneath her mother's hand.

Mothers weren't supposed to make daughters feel like that.


As much as she swore the power wasn't a crutch, she knew the truth.

Regina knew what kind of drug power was.

It was worse than snorting, shooting, smoking—it was an all-consuming monster that made her want to vomit whenever she looked in the mirror. She couldn't let go of it. Not with Cora so close to rearing her ugly head again. Not with Henry in danger. Not with the weight of the world weighing so heavily on her hat she feared her spine would break.

"She won't stop. Not until everything I love is ruined."

She'd told Henry this in the harshest of whispers, his sleeping face serene and beautiful. He was innocent. He had the childhood she wished she'd had. He had everything, and he still wasn't happy.

That made Regina wonder if she would ever be happy.

She turned towards the window, the night sky empty.

Regina Mills felt hollow.