Everything is dark.
Black spider-like streaks are swirling and twisting and suffocating her, snuffing out every last drop of light and hope. She can feel it deep in her weighted heart— can almost see it in front of her eyes; the light levels are dropping, dropping, dropping, the darkness filling the empty spaces as the light drains. She can hear someone arguing— Emma. That's Emma she hears. What's she saying? Something about taking the darkness out and needing to do it again?
She's given mere flashes of her surroundings outside the darkness as open spots pass and go around her. She sees Emma, Snow, Charming, Killian, and Robin.
Oh, Robin.
Robin is letting tears fall freely, knowing he's about to lose his soulmate again, it seems. She wants to tell him it's alright, that she'll be fine, but that's conspicuously out of the question— she feels like she's being choked.
Emma starts walking toward Regina's soul-sucking darkness with the dagger in hand, in a ready stance, playing Savior once again. She can't let Emma do this, no, not now, not today. But Regina is powerless, and now instead of feeling the light decrease, she's feeling a tremendous increase.
The arms of the darkness swirl around Regina one last time before spinning her out of its grasp, tethering itself to Emma instead. Emma grunts in pain, the darkness consuming her at a much faster rate that it had been to Regina.
And that's where it ends.
That's where it always ends.
She jerks awake in almost-darkness, sweating, hair curling at the nape of her neck and temples, and the strong arms that encase her aren't doing her any favor.
Regina wriggles out of his embrace and sits up, clutching her rapidly beating heart. Her breathing is quick and unsteady and she closes her eyes, aiming to push away the vivid imagery of her nightmare. Robin wakes from her movements and is there indefinitely, rubbing her arms and attempting to soothe her.
"Regina—Regina my love, it's alright, you're safe, you're alright," he subdues as he sits up to join her, reaching his hand out to cover her hand holding her heart.
He takes her hand gently away from her chest and squeezes, and she loses it. Regina is crying, choking out quiet sobs as to not wake Henry or Roland, holding her free hand up to her mouth to muffle the cries she can't quite tamp down.
But he's there, Robin, he's there, gently coaxing her to shift and sit in his lap so he can hold her. She buries her face in his neck, now muffling her sobs there instead of her hand, and she supposes she's getting his neck all wet with her tears but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, as he's murmuring It's alright and Let it out and I'm here into her hair, his fingers carding through the silky locks.
Regina is beside herself. The nightmares have been recurring for three weeks; either she has it every night, or every other night. It's haunting her in more ways than one, and she can't quite figure out whether it's because the darkness was so excruciating, or if it's because Emma, her best friend, is now gone (well not gone but not here either) and she feels guilty.
"Was it the same one?" he asks quietly after a good ten minutes, urging her to lift her head and look at him. She nods faintly against his neck before lifting her head to wipe her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand. Her post-crying sniffles are thick, and she's huffing out a deep breath, attempting to release the tension in her back and neck.
She tells Robin about the nightmare, just like she does every night she has it.
As she rambles on about the details and the feelings she felt, Robin is listening closely, absentmindedly untucking and retucking locks of Regina's hair behind her ear, massaging her scalp lightly, or gently trailing his fingers up and down her back.
Regina's had many problems with nightmares in the past after traumatic events she'd unwillingly been apart of. The nightmares after Daniel's death lasted for years— she'd wake up as she just did but already crying, screaming out his name and finding herself completely alone in her chambers.
The nightmares after King Leopold put himself upon her lasted for months— she'd wake up alone in her chambers, shuddering, unable to get up and shake it off in fear of collapsing due to her achy legs.
The nightmares about Henry in the missing year were as traumatizing as any. Those nightmares lasted the entire year— she'd be sleeping soundly, dreaming of eating breakfast or doing some miscellaneous activity with Henry back in Storybrooke, but out of nowhere, he'd get sucked away and completely disappear, or even worse, he'd abruptly forget who she was entirely, asking questions like Why am I here? and Who are you? and I don't trust you, stay away from me. Those were the nightmares she'd despised most.
But even so, the nightmares from the missing year and the ones she has now are different, because with these particular nightmares, she doesn't wake up alone.
She wakes up with Robin by her side.
And dear god, it's a blessing. She thanks her lucky stars every single day for having Robin there when she just needs a hand to squeeze. Even in the Enchanted Forest during the missing year, he was there, for she'd stumbled upon a relationship with him then, as well (she has a relationship with him in every universe now, honestly). He would hold her as she fell asleep at night in her chambers that held nothing but bad memories, and sometimes she would even spend the night in his room instead, when the pain got to be too much.
And just so, he's holding her now— assuring her, giving her encouragements that remind her: she's not alone. Not anymore.