They can't catch a break. There is always a new crisis, a new villain, a new problem to overcome. Normally Robin has hope, but with the Mark of Charon on his arm—from a man he considered a friend—he finds almost all hope has left him.

Regina is off making a last-ditch attempt to change Killian's mind, while he makes arrangements for his children. The Merry Men will take care of Roland and he knows they will do it well. It's unfair that Roland will have to grow up without his mother or father, but he knows all the men will ensure Roland never feels unloved or lonely.

It's his baby girl he's worried about, his sweet innocent daughter who doesn't even have a name yet. She is in danger, and that danger is Zelena, her biological mother. He thought they would have more time, would be able to figure out what to do about Zelena. He thought he would have more time to work through what happened with Zelena, more time to discuss Regina's role in his daughter's life. He has always pictured Regina as the baby's mother, them raising her together. But between everything that's happened, they never got the time to sit down and talk it all out.

They had discussed Zelena's role, a necessity once she gave birth to their daughter, and agreed she could have supervised visitation. Regina had offered to handle them all herself but he couldn't do that to her, not before having a real conversation about how she felt about all of it. She was trying to protect him, is the only one who knows how he feels about Zelena, and even then he's tried to shield her from the worst of it, knowing that she blames herself when she shouldn't.

He knows Regina is hurt as well and rightfully so, but she hasn't wanted to talk about it (more likely hasn't wanted to burden him). They've been playing a game of chicken, trying to spare each other's feelings and deal with the Dark One, now Dark Ones. And now they may never have that opportunity and he can't help but wish they set aside some time in Camelot or here, to do it. But it's hard to set aside time for an emotional conversation when everything is in crisis and you can be called upon at any minute.

It was all easy to avoid and put off. The endless crises gave him a respite from his friends' concern, allowed him to process what happened without being asked how he felt or if he was okay.

He's only just recently gotten to the point where seeing Zelena doesn't make him feel sick, ashamed, and guilty, even though he knows he has nothing to feel guilty for. He hates her, hates her with every fibre of his being. But at least his worst fear, that he wouldn't be able to love his daughter because of Zelena, disappeared that first moment he held her.

They were so unprepared. She wasn't supposed to come so early, but in a way, it's a blessing because now he can protect his daughter from Zelena, which he couldn't do if she was still inside her. It seems to be the only good thing Dark One Emma managed to do whilst trying to clean up her mess.

He has said goodbye to his son, it was heartbreaking for him, but Roland didn't quite understand what was happening. All Robin can wish is that Roland knows just how much he loves him. After Marian died, he tried not to take any moment for granted and for the most part he succeeded. However, now knowing the short time he and Roland had together he can't help but selfishly wish his son remembered all of it, including New York. He did that to protect him, but he doesn't know that Roland will see it that way.

He drops his daughter in Belle and Tink's care, plants a kiss to her forehead and says goodbye. She will never know him, won't have to bear the grief Roland will and it's probably better.

The fairies have made a vow to protect Roland and the baby, to keep them safe, but they worry, rightfully so, about Zelena.

He's to meet Regina at her office and then they will find Zelena and send her away, ensuring she can't hurt their baby girl. It's maybe not the best way, his daughter may be angry with him later in life for it, but it's the only way to ensure she is safe and he just hopes someday she will forgive him for it.

Regina arrives at the same time he does, and any last glimmer of hope he had fizzles out at her defeated expression. He grabs her hand, squeezes it tight, and hopes she knows no one blames her. This is all Killian's fault, Killian's and Emma's. Emma should have let Killian die in Camelot, the pain of that loss would have dimmed with time, but the loss of her entire family because of what she did never will, that he knows all too well.

"Do you have it?" he asks Regina and she nods tersely.

"And Roland and the baby?"

He feels a wave of affection amidst all the loss and defeat. He loves her so much, loves how her first priority is the children. "They're safe, and I know they will be well cared for."

Regina freezes, stopping him in his tracks. "What is it, love?"

She hisses, "That bitch." He assumes she means Zelena, but he has no idea what she's referring to. Regina's tone is low, menacing, "She's here, sitting in my office, gloating."

Of course she is, but at least she's made this easier for them, the clock is running out and they don't have to waste time looking for her. They are already late for the last family dinner at Granny's and he knows she will want to see Henry before it happens. And he does as well, he loves him and hasn't had the chance to tell him yet.

They walk in to "Gina! Robbie! Come on in," like they need an invitation to enter Regina's office. Zelena is sitting in Regina's chair, holding some sort of weird book of colours.

Regina's pissed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"At the moment, I'm trying to decide what colour would look best on your walls. I mean, my walls."

Regina just glowers and he stands back, waiting.

"Kelly? Hunter? Pistachio? Oh, my God, I just realized that all three of those work as baby names. It's all just coming together."

He can't help but grimace over her terrible taste.

"Cheeky, but you're not moving in, sis." And good, they are running out of time, there have been enough games.

Zelena doesn't know what they have planned so continues to gloat. "Well, perhaps I'm slightly premature, but in an hour, you'll both be dead, then everything that's yours will be mine. And, of course, I get the baby."

He responds instantaneously, vehemently, "No. You see, our child deserves her best chance."

Regina pulls out the wand, "And that's not with you."

Zelena still thinks she's winning, and he has to admit he's deriving an odd satisfaction from witnessing this. "Oh, yes. The withered knob of that sad old man. Uh, if memory serves, the last time you tried to use it, you weren't powerful enough to make it work."

"If my memory serves last time, I didn't believe in myself. But now I do, as does everyone in this town. So, let's go somewhere, just the two of us."

Then they disappear.

She should have taken him with her, he knows why she didn't, knows she has worked hard to limit his time around Zelena, a courtesy she was never extended with the King.

But he's anxious as hell, he needs her to come back, needs to know that his daughter and son will be safe. He needs Regina, needs to tell her he loves her one last time, kiss her one last time, and they are running out of time.

She poofs back and he has a moment of thank god she's okay before he remembers that doesn't matter because they are all going to die in approximately 15 minutes. It's not fair their time together was so short, so littered with obstacles that kept them apart.

They deserved more time together, more time wrapped up in each other's arms, watching movies with their kids, doing all the fun family things that got put off when they were chasing villains.

"Regina, I— I love you, so much love I—" fuck he's getting choked up, it's just the end is near and it's so real now. He knows she knows it, but he has to say it.

Then she says three words she's never said to him, the ones he swore he would never push her for, the ones he thought he would never hear, "I love you, too."

He sees her shoulders shake and a sob escape. He pulls her into his arms and she grasps him tightly, and it's all too overwhelming as he feels a tear slide down his own face.

"I— I s-hould have told you sooner, I— god, it feels so stupid now."

And no, he will not have her spending their last moments together feeling guilty. "It's okay love, I love you, no matter what, in every realm, in this life and in whatever comes next."

"I'm scared, Robin." And his heart breaks all over again because he knows how hard that is for her to say, knows how rare this vulnerable tone is, what an honour it is to have her feel comfortable enough to share it with him.

His voice shakes as he tells her, "Me, too."

He kisses her softly, one, twice, and then a third time, pulling away to wipe her tears. As his hand strokes over her face, she stares up at him with those expressive eyes, the ones he thought he would spend the rest of his life looking into. The ones he wanted to see light up when—

She kisses him, passionately, urgently and there's an edge of sheer desperation to the kiss that's never been there before. Their tongues tangle, teeth clash and he can feel and taste the salty tears that are still flowing from both of them. His hand cards through her hair and this could be it, this could be the last time he ever feels her hair in his hands, her lips on his, her taste in his mouth.

He hasn't kissed her enough, there is too much time to make up for and not enough time to do that, so he keeps kissing her, pressing kisses across her cheeks and on her jaw when she breaks to sniffle. He wants to kiss every inch of her, commit it all to memory, but there's no time. His emotions are on overdrive and he doesn't know that he's ever felt so much all at once.

She grabs him for another intense kiss and then he feels her hand, shakily sliding down between them and then she's fiddling with his belt.

He breaks the kiss breathlessly to ask, "What are you doing, love?"

She doesn't answer, letting her actions speak louder as she opens the button of his jeans pushing them and his boxers off of his hips in one fell swoop.

"Love, we—"

She slides her hand onto him, stroking him deliberately "Please, please I need—"

He can feel his erection growing in her hand. He can't help but react to her touch, her perfect firm measured touch that never fails to send shivers up his spine, and this time violently. It barely takes any time for him to rise in her hand, the intensity of what's happening to them has his mind conflicted, off-kilter, but his hormones are raging, flowing through him, begging for one last release.

When he's fully hard she magics off her tights and boots. And that swirl of magic coupled with her now bare legs makes his belly clench. He wants her, he does, so badly, always does, but there's no way she's ready and he won't hurt her, so when she reaches for him again, he stops her.

He presses a kiss to that spot behind her ear that makes her knees weak, slides his hands under her layers of clothing to fiddle with her tits just the way she likes. "I want you, love, but I won't hurt you, just let me work you up a bit."

She shakes her head no while pushing off her coat and scarf. "We don't have time, I need to feel you, one last time, please."

The one last time gets him and he can't deny her that, won't deny her that. He needs it, too, suddenly he needs it more than he's ever needed anything in his life. But if it is the last time he needs to see her come, to feel her pulse around him and cry out. Needs to bring her the ecstasy she was denied for far too long as her body and mind recovered from her marriage.

He scoops her up into his arms causing her to "Mmph" in surprise. He sets her down on the desk, rucks up her skirt to find her bare. He groans at that and brings his fingers to stroke her clit while he kisses her hard.

She hums encouragingly and, when he latches onto that sensitive spot on her neck, she pleads, "Robin, now."

"Let me go down on you, just for a minute, want to taste you." God, he hasn't done that enough, other than their first time in her vault, it's always been quick trysts between disasters. He's never had time to really savour her, explore every inch of her body, make her come until she can't anymore.

She stops him, pressing their faces together so their noses are touching and she's so close he can't really focus in on her face. "I need you with me."

And that he understands, the need to savour the intimacy while they still can, to stay with each other this last time, to be able to look at each other, feel each other and just be there together. He kisses her, lets his fingers slip down from her clit to feel if she's even wet. She is, but not her usual riled up slickness. She's been taken hostilely before, left with tears and bruises, and so he always makes sure she's more than ready.

But this time is different, he moves his hand away from her clit, spits into his palm and rubs it on himself, hoping it will help. He grabs her hips and slips into her slowly, just the tip and she's so tight, not ready for the intrusion. She winces, but tells him, "Keep going," so he does and watches as her hand drops to her clit, rubbing it firmly as he eases the rest of the way in.

He stills for a moment, and stares at her, drinks her in. He needs more time, they need more time together, this cannot be it.

But it very well might be, so he sucks again at that sensitive spot, delighting in the whoosh of breath she lets out.

"I love you," she says again and he tells her, "I love you, too," as he presses their lips together again, slowly moving within her.

She's wetter now, looser, tight around him, but not uncomfortably so. She's so warm and perfect and he feels the urge to take her hard, his cock is aching, inundated with the need for more, but he won't hurt her.

"More," she begs, and who is he to deny her when he's dying for it and they are about to die? He thrusts a bit harder and they both cry out and god she feels so good. He loves her so much. Life as they know it is ending, god knows what awaits them, but this, this they have, for now.

He can't stop kissing her, kissing every exposed inch of skin trying to commit it to memory. He sucks her harder and she moans loudly so he bites down and she groans a "Fuck, yes, faster."

And so he does. It feels fucking fantastic, primal and raw, aggressive even, but still loving.

He pushes into her faster, kneads her ass roughly and he bites at her neck, marking it up in a way he wouldn't normally but she's loving it, scratching her fingers down his back rough enough he feels the bite of pain through his shirt. She seems to have the same desperate clawing need to be rough, to leave a mark. He bites her again, sees the redness left its wake and really, they're dying, so who will see it anyway?

It's a sobering thought he pushes away. He focuses on her, how she feels. She's wet, really wet now, soaking him, starting to get tighter around him. This rough hard pace seems to be doing wonders for her, which is good because his belly is abuzz, pleasure churning in his gut, pressure and that sheer need to come growing and growing.

"God, love, I love you so much, you feel amazing, I— fuck, want a whole lifetime with you, but you have to know that every moment was precious and I wouldn't trade in any of them." It's far too sentimental for the rough desperate sex they are having, but he has to tell her.

"I love—oh fuck—I love you, I love you, I have for so long, you're one of the—oh god—best things in my life and not just n—ah—ow ever."

His heart is overflowing with emotion and he feels the same. "As you a-are for me."

He's started to slow, but she lets out a desperate cry and he feels her clench around him so he refocuses on that, on bringing her pleasure, and that aching need he has for her.

"Are you close, love? God, please come for me, I need you to come for me, I love you so much."

"I—ah—don't want it to end."

"I know, love, I know."

Then he kisses her again, grabs her harder, and takes her as fast as he can. It feels bloody fantastic and he's close, god, he's so close, that fast pace increasing the urgent need to come. He's never needed it so badly, holding off is torture, his body begging for release, but he will not come without her, will not leave her unsatisfied their last time. His whole body is drawn so tight and everything feels so damn good because he's so, so sensitive and god, he's not going to last, needs to last, fucking hell.

She breaks the kiss on a deep uninhibited moan and stares at him as she tells him, "Love you so much, can't, uh."

He doesn't break the eye contact, won't lose the moment. "Love you, too, let go for me, love, please."

He's breathing so hard and it's taking every ounce of his control not to spill into her. He's at the end of his tether, his body begging him to let go. He feels it, fuck, fuck, he's not going to be able to stop it. She needs to… he can't.

It takes a couple more torturous seconds, as they continue to drink each other in, but then he sees and feels it. She clenches hard, fights the urge to throw her head back, keeps her eyes open and on his as she falls apart.

It's easily the most erotic thing he's ever experienced and those wonderful spasms around him take him over the edge. All the pressure and pleasure intensified by their reality, by what this is and the time spent desperately fending off orgasm. He cries out, cock twitching inside her as he comes and comes. It, this, she is everything.

He's softening in her, trying to catch his breath, between kisses, but not ready to slip out. And she must feel the same because she's grabbing his hips holding him there.

He presses a kiss to her hair, whispers, "I love you," and then his arm starts to burn and he "Ahhs," and she does, too, their marks lighting up. Pain shooting out and up his arm, waves of hot fiery agony. God, he didn't think the end would hurt so much, pain is radiating out through his entire body. The whole room goes white for a minute as the pain becomes unbearable, and then he feels the pull of being transported.

He's disoriented when they come to, but thankfully clothed, as is Regina. She must have taken care of that while he was distracted by the pain. She's so strong, his love, always prepared.

She rushes to Henry. Shit, he never told him that he loved him, got too caught up with his mother, who's asking, "Henry? Are you all right?"

"I—I—I think so."

Snow's pacing, her voice frantic. "Neal's back at the diner!"

David turns to him, holding Snow, and asks, "Roland and the baby, where are they?"

He tells them, "They're safe. They're with the fairies. They'll take Neal, as well."

He shivers as he takes in their surroundings, they are encircled by Dark Ones, confined. He feels a dread, but also a sort of calming finality. This is it, there's nothing to be done now, but accept it.

Henry says, "So this is really it."

Killian chooses that moment to make his appearance, "I'm afraid it is, lad." He is nothing like the friend Robin made, the one who was trying to be a better man, to confront his darkness. "Look. The S.S. Purgatory."

Regina reaches for him, pulling him so they are arm and arm as he turns and sees pockets of white mist appear on the lake and then a boat. It's the ferry, Charon's ferry to take them to the Underworld.

Emma's voice makes him turn back. "Mom, Dad! Henry! I'm sorry! I tried!"

Henry rushes into her arms and Regina approaches Killian as Snow says, "We know. It's okay," grabbing her in a tight group hug.

Regina's voice is cold and hard, "It's time to drop the act. You can't just sit back and watch another family be destroyed to get your revenge."

Killian's response is equally cold. "What makes you think I can't? "

He doesn't know what she's doing, but if anyone can save them, he knows it's Regina. "Because of what we swore to never speak of again. I know the real reason you don't want to talk about what you did to your father."

"I believe we've already had this conversation."

Henry makes his way back over to him. He takes Henry under his arm as Regina speaks,

"But this time you're going to listen because, if you don't, you're gonna regret it for the rest of your life, which, in your case, means forever. So, you have to ask yourself the same question you did that night. What kind of man do you want to be?"

When she finishes, he bows his head down and whispers to Henry, "I love you," and feels him nod against his shoulder, clutching him tightly.

It's appalling that this is happening to Henry, he's too young, and Killian could have been his stepfather for god's sakes.

He looks back at Killian and knows there is good in his friend, know somewhere inside there is a person who would do the right thing and he prays that he is able to fight his way out, overcome the darkness.

Killian doesn't move, his face stays stoic and Robin lets himself hope again.

One of the Dark Ones approaches. "It's time."

Regina rushes back to Henry and it reminds him how right he was that first time he met her and proclaimed she had the touch of a mother. He's glad she was able to get back to her son, that he was able to meet the incredible boy he heard many stories about (almost never from her) during their year in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma takes a stand. "No, you're not taking the people I love!"

He hears Emma's choke of breath before he sees the magic come from the other Dark One. "I might not be able to kill you, but I can stop you from interfering."

He grips onto Henry as Killian pauses, doing nothing, and god, where is the man he befriended? They need that Killian.

Killian orders, "That's enough!"

Robin's heart stops—this is it, this is the only chance they have to be saved.

The Dark One asks, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Being the man I want to be."

Robin lets out a sigh of relief, it's not over yet but now there's a chance, the Killian he knows is back.

The Dark One taunts him, "You can't stop us."

But Killian does not relent, "Yes, I can," and then he holds up Excalibur and it starts to suck in all of the Dark Ones.

He continues to hold Henry, his hand just above Regina's on his back as all the Dark Ones are sucked in into Excalibur.

Emma's shaking as she pleads, "Killian, you can't do this."

Killian stays strong. "We both know there's no other way, love. We have to hurry. The darkness won't stay trapped in Excalibur much longer. Take it."

"No!" He feels for Emma, he really does, but she needs to do this, for all of them.

"You have to help me, Swan. Take it."

"I can't. It should be me." Their exchange feels private and he wishes he could give them some space, but there's really nowhere for them to go and they will need to be there for Emma in the aftermath.

"Your family needs you. If anyone deserves to go to the Underworld, it's me. You were right. I was weak. So let me make up for it now by being strong."

He's tense now, so tense, he can see the Excalibur shaking, this needs to be done and now.

Emma makes one final plea, "I don't want to lose you."

"And I don't want to lose you. But you have to let me go. Let me die a hero!" That's the moment when it really hits him: he's about to lose his friend. "That's the man I want you to remember, please!"

Time seems to slow as Emma reaches or Excalibur and grabs it. She whispers, "I love you," just loud enough so they can hear, and his heart breaks. She shouldn't have to go through this, none of them should. He rubs his arm up and down Henry's back. He shouldn't be seeing this, but he's here and won't look away.

As Emma raises the sword Killian tells her, "It's okay."

He feels Henry tense as Emma stabs Killian, and he looks over at him and catches Regina's wince. Then he looks back at his friend and watches his eyes close, and then a blue light flashes. It's horrible, traumatic but he's comforted by the fact that Killian lived a long life and gave his life for the greater good, ridding the world of the Dark One once and for all.