The city was draped in velvet darkness, glowing balls of light that was not fire lighting the paths that lead around the city. Despite this, he sticks to the shadows, because he is a thief, and it's what he does. He passes up two people who are distracted, and whom he could easily pick pocket, but from what she has told him, there is no need to rob here. Everyone is well taken care of.

Her. Regina. The woman who told him that he was her soul mate. The woman who told him that some other version of him had been in love with her, and had actually sacrificed himself for her. He finds the man she speaks of honorable and true, and very, very far removed from the man he is today. He sees the way she gazes at him, as if searching his eyes for something, those dark eyes piercing, penetrating him, and making him feel entirely unworthy. Bloody wank, his other self was. He sees how, every time, she is disappointed when she doesn't find whatever it is she's searching for, and he can only think that his other Robin ruined any chance he might have had. Because he doesn't know about soul mates. He doesn't know about pixie dust or true love. But he does know that she's beautiful -heart-breakingly so- and that, no matter how many times he'd stolen from beautiful women along the roads back home, this one is different. This one is… special. He can feel it in his bones.

Bloody hell. He isn't built for hiding under park benches.

Finally, she leaves the park where she'd sat at a bench several yards away, staring at the water, and he can't help but think that she's sad. That she's up to something, of course, but… she's terribly sad. She had showed him the book- showed him the stories from this realm, and the life he'd lead up until he had met Regina. She had filled him in from there, and it seemed like his other self had had a pretty sweet gig set up. Shagging the mayor of the town, who just so happened to be rich, who just so happened to be stunningly gorgeous, who just so happened to be the love of his life. What a charmed existence his other self had lead… until he hadn't, anyway.

He stops thinking of him, because he knows that that's all she thinks about whenever she looks at him, and that he disappoints every time she compares. This shouldn't bother him, but it does. Is this jealousy? Is he actually jealous of a different version of himself who, by all accounts, got the raw end of the deal?

Speaking of jealousy… It becomes apparent where she's leading him, and he contemplates bailing now, while he still has a chance. But what the hell? He'd seen it out this far. Might as well stay.

Regina is kneeling on the ground, a headstone bearing the inscription "Robin Hood" beneath an exact replica of the tattoo that still itches on his arm. Maybe it just itches because it seems to be such a huge part of her story. He hates himself when he ducks behind a bigger headstone, quieting his breathing so that he can hear what she's saying. When she does speak, her voice is thick with tears.

"Hi," she breathes. She sounds embarrassed. Has she not done this before? Perhaps not. "I… this feels stupid, but… I don't know. Something about it feels… helpful, maybe." Her fingers reach out to caress the grey surface, and he watches her closely, watches her like a hawk. "I guess, if you can see me, you know what's happening. What I… did. All of it." Her splitting herself in two. Her going back to the Enchanted Forest and picking him up and bringing him back. She sighs softly and looks down.

"I can only imagine the look on your face. The exasperation in your eyes. You taught me I wasn't a monster… that even an Evil Queen gets a second chance at happiness. And I ruined you with that. You would argue with me, I know. But I think it's pretty obvious that if it wasn't for me, you never would have been drawn into this mess. For that, I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry because without you, I couldn't distinguish what part of me was the monster and what part wasn't. I had to separate us to know, and I'm so ashamed."

Right. More sappy stuff. Not that he blames her- she's been through the ringer. But none of this is something he hasn't already heard from her own lips. He's come tonight, followed her here, in the hopes of finding out something he can do to help her, to try to erase some of the sadness in her eyes, if that is even possible. Perhaps it isn't. Perhaps he only reminds her of what she's lost, and in that case, his presence must be torture for her.

"What would you do, hmm?" she asks suddenly, softly. "You once told me that you would have walked through hell to get back to Marian, and… I know you were telling the truth. This… is this my version of hell, Robin? Being with you, but not… you?"

He hears a sniffle, and those carefully controlled tears are breaking her surface, and he feels bad. He's put her through so much pain. But this wasn't all his fault- bloody bird had brought him back herself. What in god's name was he supposed to do? She sniffs again, and she's swallowing back emotion, he can hear it; doesn't dare poke his head out, because he isn't sure he can stand seeing her in this much pain. And that bloody well right pisses him off, because who the fuck does she think she is, plucking him out of his life, bringing him here, and making him feel things for her? He should just knock and arrow and do them both a favor- reunite her with her dear other Robin, and be done with it. And yet, he knows he never could. Not because he isn't capable of it.

The sad fact of the matter is that he isn't capable of it with her.

"I don't know if I've messed up everything," she's saying now, and he pushes down his boiling anger in order to listen. "He's you… and yet, knowing he isn't you, won't be you, hurts far more than I ever could have thought. He doesn't know Roland, and he doesn't know what happened in the Vault- our first night together. He doesn't remember the way you told me that our love was true… that what he have… had… wasn't a simple trick of fate. He doesn't remember all of our bickering during the year in the Enchanted Forest-" and she coughs out a harsh, tearful laugh here. One that has Robin's heart clenching in unnameable emotion. She picks up again. "-though, he's a quick study in that department."

Well. That was almost complimentary.

"He's trying. He wants to learn about me, and I know he feels… something. I wonder if he feels sorry for me- hoping the crazy, crying woman who forced herself into his life goes away and leaves him be." Robin is speechless, all the air in his lungs squeezed out of his body. Surely, she can't really think- hasn't he done a better job than that?

She's chuckling now, soft, husky, and it's a sound that lulls him, calms him, and simultaneously makes him pissed because he doesn't fucking know why he feels this connection, and she's sad, and he just wants to help. "He's been amazing, all things considered. I know he never had Marian to make him into the better man you always talked about. I just wish you knew… he knew… that you didn't need Marian for that. You're already so good, and I can see it. You hid it well with bravado and a callous disregard after all you'd seen during the wars. But I know you, Robin. And I know that goodness like yours wasn't brought about by a woman. It was always there, hidden behind the hurt. She might have uncovered it, and it's really embarrassing how much I owe Marian for that. But I don't have her to help me now, and I don't think I can go through this without you. So… help me. Help me to figure out what I have to do. Is this a fool's errand? Should I take him back to his home?"

No, Robin thinks suddenly, a panicked beat plucking his heart. No, this is home now… You can't send me back. I want to stay!

Tell her that then, something within him says suddenly, and he nearly gives away his cover at the shock of the answer in his mind, strong and steady. What the bloody hell was that!?

Regina sniffs and releases a sigh, leaning her head against his headstone and just letting the tears flow down her cheeks. Robin can't help but feel like an arse. He'd come here to find a reason to make her not cry, and here she is, spilling tears over him; and it didn't matter if it was him-him or other-him, they were both him and he was letting her down.

So stop letting her down. It isn't hard. Pull your head out of your bloody arse and start being what she needs.

Alright, this was damned disconcerting. Is he going crazy? There is a voice in his mind where there previously had been none, and it was sounding suspiciously like his own, but… how could that be? How is that even possible? He'd silenced his subconscious long ago, but he remembered what that sounded like, and it was nowhere near as demanding as this. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?" he whispers into the night air, asking the voice directly, because he doesn't know if he was going crazy, but he feels like arguing with his own voice in his head might make him certifiable, and that's something he wishes to avoid.

The voice does not answer back, and he frowns. Great. Well, here goes nothing. She'll probably hate him for eavesdropping, for following her, but what the hell does he have to lose now?

It isn't until later, as he's holding her to him in bed, his fingers dragging lightly through her hair, that she speaks and actually asks him about tonight.

"You followed me… why?"

His voice is sleepy and a little rough, but his answer is accompanied by a small smile. "I was worried. You seemed so unhappy, and something about that… left me unhappy to. It was like a bard trying to play a chord, but hitting the wrong string in the middle. Nothing felt… right."

Regina swallows and nods. She'd felt it too- it'd been what dragged her late at night to his… other-his gravestone. Robin was the one person she could talk to about anything, and he'd known it all, known everything about her, and there was history there that she couldn't bear losing. That, more than anything, was what hurts. She can teach this Robin everything about who he was to her, what he'd been to other people, the good that he had done, but he will never have the memories of it, of his life, and of their life together. The thought of it still has a dull pressure building behind her eyes that threatens to spill over if she dwells.

He seems to sense that she's having a rough time of it, and she feels his arms tighten just a little bit- not quite familiar; he's missing a scar on his left bicep, and the hair that she'd run her hands through earlier was darker and shorter- gods, how much younger was this Robin than she was, and why didn't she think of that sooner?- but it's comforting nonetheless, and she supposes that's what's important. Even if she is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

But something soothes her, and before she can sprint out of bed and allow the guilt of this to overcome her, she's feeling, if not calm, than at least more sedate; still upset, but not enough to bolt out of his arms and the one thing that's offering her a modicum of comfort.

"Why did you jump out and… kiss me?" How odd this was. She'd just sated her desires with the man, but speaking of actual intimacy was uncomfortable. Here she was, lying naked in his embrace, but she blushed at the mention of a kiss. She and Robin had always been physical people, and there had been no shortage of real, tangible affection between the two. Apparently, that was a universal trait in Robin, no matter what realm. The more similarities between the two, the more at ease she felt.

"You… aren't going to believe me if I tell you," he says with a shy chuckle. He seems almost a little uncomfortable, as if he doesn't know how she'll react, and she turns and lifts an eyebrow, waiting. She can see the second he relents, and he rubs one of his hands along her arms, as if to soothe her at the same time as he speaks. "I… rather got pushed into doing it, really. One minute I was sitting there, wondering what I could do, and the next, I was being yelled at to get my head out of my arse and be who you needed me to be."

She blinks, uncomprehending. "But… I didn't hear anyone else speaking."

He shakes his head. "No, no one spoke out loud. This was… in my head." He pauses and winces, as if waiting for her to tell him he's crazy. She makes a face, but one of simple confusion, and not disbelief.

"You… were in distress because I was," she reasons; and it isn't unreasonable. "It must have caused your conscience to-"

"That's just it," he says softly, an unsure look on his face. "It wasn't… my own mind telling me something. It's been a bit, but I do remember what that sounds like. This was… literally as if someone was screaming in my head." He looks at her, and presses his lips together in a thin line. "I'm going insane."

She huffs lightly, gives him a "Probably," then settles down deeper against him, the look on her face pensive.

"What is it love?" he asks softly, and it's the 'love' part that makes her wonder whether this is a good idea. He doesn't love her- she knows better. Her Robin had. They'd never gotten to actually exchange the words; he'd tried when he was leaving Storybrooke, but she'd stopped him, because she knew if she let those words come out of his mouth, she couldn't let him cross the town line. What good would it do then? He was leaving forever, and she was once again meant to be left out. How many times had fate attempted to tear them apart before it had finally succeeded? And how much pain had she cost him?

"Nothing," she says quickly, realizing that she's been too quiet for too long, and he's not stupid. He can pick up on her fluctuating thoughts already. Already damned perceptive about her moods; she really should stop this. She cannot make the same mistake, she cannot damn his life to darkness because of her, because it will happen again. It always does. But she cannot stop yet. It will hurt more in the long run for her, but she will take that pain if only for a little more pleasure. She will take the anguish later if she can only have quiet contentment now. The image of a feather flashes in her mind, and something about it has her closing her eyes and concentrating on the memory of his eyes smiling at her, on the way they crinkled at the edges, and the sexy way he bit his lip when looking at her like he wanted to devour her.

"Are you sure it's nothing?" he prods gently, and it takes a moment for Regina to remember the question he'd asked.

She sighs. "It's just… funny, is all. I'm asking Robin… the other Robin… to help me. To show me what I have to do, and… you end up doing it for me." Of course, not everything was perfect. This entire thing was messy and complicated- but she feels like they always have been that. Nothing between them is ever easy.

Robin hums lightly and presses a kiss to her head. "Maybe it's all about timing," he says, before yawning and tucking down for the night beneath the blankets. For the first time in so, so long, a hopeful smile pushes up the corners of her mouth, and she blinks and looks around the room. She sees nothing out of the ordinary… at least, until she looks over at Robin; this new, unrefined, stupid man who has caused her so much pain, but only wishes to bring her happiness. And she wants that happiness, however fleeting it may be, but she feels as if giving herself to him fully would cheapen the memory of her soul mate, and she can't do that. She can't dare do that, would rather be alone for the rest of her life and let this man live out his life in peace-

It's difficult to see at first, because his hair is short and a bit spiky, and darker than… before. But when she finds it, she slowly reaches out and plucks it from his hair; a tiny, fluffy, black feather that must have been there from their earlier, unknowingly joint outing. Something within Regina calms, stills, and she feels like she can take a breath for the first time.

Perhaps it really was all about the timing, she decides, just before sleep claims her.