While possessing the power of the Dark One, Emma hadn't stopped to consider things. She hadn't paused to think about what her actions would do to her later, nor did she think about the consequences later. The only thing that mattered had been getting home, fighting upwards and ripping this place to shreds. And even then, she'd been so narrow minded in how to do that.
It seemed like nothing but bad choices had followed her since the Dark One power passed through to her, and she knew it was mostly from the darkness that inhabited her soul from there on, but it didn't help any of the guilt clinging to her.
Isaac's heart, Stark's life, even what she'd done to Killian, forgiveness would be harder to give herself for any of those things.
After her twin suicide with Killian, she'd thought made she'd float off back, but it wasn't to be, and she woke with a start in an unfamiliar bed across the town. Naturally Jefferson had been the first person she thought of, because if anyone would understand and not judge, it would be him.
His swift arrival just let Emma crumble a little, gripping tightly to his shoulders and burying her face against his chest, forgetting about walls and doors for long enough to just take some comfort for a while. "I'm sorry."