He was in there right now, her soulmate. The man held his new daughter in his arms, and as she ducked her gaze around the door frame to look inside, she was immediately struck by how... beautiful he was. They were. Robin and his daughter. The red face was wrinkled and angry, but she was beautiful. Robin's child could be nothing less.
Guilt clenched around her broken heart. This was so messy and painful. She should have been in there, welcoming the addition to her family. She knew Robin would want to share this moment with her; well, thought he might, anyway. The past few weeks had given her reason to doubt all that she thought she knew about him, and now, she'd just exhaust herself by working herself into an unwinnable mental argument at least four times a day.
Sometimes, she could convince herself that it didn't matter. Robin and Roland were there. They were alive. Safe. The fact that he loved her and wanted her was a miracle, and she knew she should have been content that he wasn't repulsed by her.
But most days, Regina found herself submerged beneath the watery surface of agony. Self doubt and self loathing were her constant companions. This was her fault. She never should have allowed any of this. Really, she'd known better, but she'd done it anyway; allowed herself to fall for him, allowed Snow and Tinkerbell and all of them convince her that she was worthy of love.
What did they know?
A quiet wriggling and cooing broke her thoughts, and her dark, unreadable eyes passed over to the new father. Regina had thought long ago that she'd dealt with the issues surrounding her self-imposed infertility, but having her sister pregnant with her soulmate's child had brought all of those pains rushing back. There would never be a product of her and Robin's love. She would never feel the flutter of a kick, feel his warm palm settle on her rounding belly in awe, or feel what it was like to hold something that she had created. With Henry, she'd put those silly desires to bed, because she had never dreamed someone would love her enough to want to start a family with her.
But Henry was older now, more independant, and while she would always love her son more than anything, if she'd had the ability then to carry her own child, she would have. And the best part about this was that Robin didn't even know; as he held his child, he had no idea that she couldn't provide him with one, should he have the desire.
How many times could she stand to lose her happiness before she got it through her thick skull?
Villains didn't get happy endings. No matter what she did, it would not erase her past, and though she'd attempted to trick herself and everyone else around her, an apple could never be an orange. Perhaps Evil really was born.
"Regina?" Blue, plaintive eyes looked up at her, and the woman froze, caught in an unguarded moment of anguish. "Come here, Regina... I've someone who wants to meet you."
Suddenly, she had a flashback of being forced to attend a ball her husband had been hosting. She had been taught to repress her emotions - No one wants a difficult wife, Regina- and simply do what she had to. She'd done it for her mother. She'd done it for Leopold for a time. But now, looking in at Robin and his child, and the sleeping form of her sister, she felt those walls closing in around her, trapping her within them like a prison of duty. She had to put on a brave face because it was expected of her. She had to accept Robin's child because it was his. She had to face this because... she deserved to be hurt.
No... No. It was too much. God, that child was innocent, and she felt guilt suffocating her, because she knew she couldn't do this. Robin's face crinkled in concern, and he knew she was coming undone.
"Regina... Breathe. Come sit, let me help."
He couldn't help. No one could help. This was broken beyond repair. Regina couldn't walk, but she still had her magic. Her body evaporated into a cloud of purple smoke, only to rematerialize in her bedroom moments later. The bed was unmade, and she could smell his scent against the pillow. This was going to be difficult.
She packed quickly and forgot at least four things she'd wished she had brought, but everything was replaceable in the end. She just needed to get out. She had left notes for those she deemed important, and had crossed over the town line without a single goodbye, intending never to look back. If villains couldn't have happy endings, she was just going to write herself out of the book for good.