Regina's P.O.V.
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...
She goes through the house at 10:00, the pouring rain is tapping her roof in the distance and making her feel too sleepy to watch television. On her way up the stairs, she turns each light off, picks up a sock of Henry's, and a stray leaf that must've blown through the window this morning when they were open.
The rain may be making her eyelids droop, but once she gets comfortable in bed, she knows she won't have a good night's sleep. She hasn't since he left. A few minutes of napping here and there is what has been keeping her going for the past six weeks, and she wonders if this'll ever go away. The thoughts, the wandering of her mind and wondering if he's okay, wondering if he's happy...all of it.
Tonight, she begins to think she'll never be able to sleep peacefully again.
She's even gone to Archie, tried to get some psychiatric help, but he just talks her through it and it does absolutely nothing. He tells her to try and not think about him, but how can she when even after she's washed the sheets ten times, they still smell like forest?
Her mind has gone so insane, that she's taken each and every leaf that blows in and places them on her bedside table. She's believing maybe that it's a sign to keep believing, to keep hoping he'll be back without hi ex-popsicle of a wife. But she's losing that as the leaves grow brown and crunchier, dying off with her hope.
Air fills her nostrils as she closes her eyes, her face contorted with worry of the night ahead. She knows she won't be able to sleep, she's not sure why she expects it anymore. But she tries, at least, and begins wondering.
An hour of tossing and turning goes by, and she stops to look at the clock. It's 11:30, and she's gotten not a wink of sleep. She's ended up on his side of the bed, the side that smells like him, like forest and a strong cologne that he tries to smell cleaner with after he showers. The side that still has a few blonde hairs on his pillow, and the side that he snores on and makes cute whimpering noises when he sleeps.
Sleep. That would be nice.
She hugs the pillow, breaking down from the sleep deprivation and letting her tears fall onto the white case for the thirtieth time. "Come back..." She whispers, "I can't do this without you."
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Robin's P.O.V.
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He kisses Marian on the forehead, telling her goodnight, he loves her, and that he'll see her in the morning. As usual, as he's done the past six weeks.
The scare with Rumplestiltskin is fresh in his mind from today, making his head hurt and spin and he's really not sure if he did the right thing. But as he makes his way to the couch, his thoughts change to Regina's face when he sees the apples that Marian had bought, setting them in the dish.
They're for Roland, he knows, because Roland loves red apples. But just the sight of him makes him so angry that he storms to the counter, grabbing the bowl, and bringing it to the window.
It's Marian's favorite bowl, he thinks as he opens the window up. She'll kill me – not if she doesn't know.
He looks down at the dark street, only the headlights of taxis lighting it up enough for him to see where the escape ladder is as he holds the bowl with two hands out of the window, filled with about five apples.
One, he counts, loosening his grip a little.
Two, he looks down with a grin, a sort of grin that looks post-murderous.
Three.
The bowl smashes onto the pavement, shattering everywhere and letting the apples bounce around. A few people in their cabs look up, wondering what that was, but pay no mind and drive on as he closes the window back.
He strips his shirt as he turns, walking to the couch. Regina liked him bare while they slept, but Marian...Marian likes him to keep a tank on. Another reason they don't sleep together.
He says the reason is because he hasn't been sleeping well, and he would hate to keep her awake, but he knows the real reason in the back of his mind. The part of his mind that comes to surface when his head hits the pillow and he closes his eyes, but never sleeps longer than ten minutes at a time.
The coffee table in front of him is filled with things, one of them being a business card for a sleep doctor that Marian made him an appointment for. Tuesday, he whispers to himself as he sees the date written on the card. I'll be back to myself on Tuesday.
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Regina's P.O.V.
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When the birds start to chirp, she's already downstairs and dressed, finishing the last sip of her coffee and the last line of the Storybrooke Mirror.
She has a long drive today, one that she hops will fix her sleeping problem. She's been referred by Dr. Hopper to a place in New York (which was certainly not her location of choice, but she's told herself that she will not try to find Robin. No matter how hard she wants to. She needs to let him be with his wife...his happy ending).
On her way out, she grabs her keys, her purse, and takes the business card that Archie gave her, then heads out to her car. Once she's in, she reads the card:
Dr. P. Low, PhD.
"We can fix all of your bedroom problems"
She scoffs at the quote, rolling her eyes, "If only I were so lucky to have bedroom problems." She mumbles to herself, flipping the card over to double check the time and date she's supposed to be there:
Tuesday 9:00 is what she has written down, so she puts it down into her console and starts her journey to Dr. Low.
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Robin's P.O.V.
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He looks down at the card, stuffing it in his back pocket and looking up at the clock. It's already 8:30, and he still has to catch a taxi to be there on time.
Turning back to his wife and son at the breakfast table, he kisses his head and kisses her lips, "I love you both. I'll be back later, okay?"
They both tell him their goodbyes, Roland's was dragged out wondering why he couldn't come with him. Marian explained to the boy, though, so Robin could get going. He's already late.
Down the elevator and out of the building, he's off to catch a cab – not the easiest feat in New York, he's found. When he finally grabs one about ten minutes later, he immediately checks the cabbie's clock inside.
"Bloody hell." He mumbles, paying the man to get him to the doctor's office. It's already 8:50, and he's going to be so late.
And of course, traffic is horrible. Why wouldn't it be? He's running late, of course it's heavy.
When the cabbie finally gets there, he pays the man the rest and gets out, getting into the office at about 9:15. Just as he's filling out his papers, he hears the doctor talking to someone.
"Do you have anyone that you're missing? Any big changes in your life recently?" He asks, but Robin can't hear whoever's answer.
He fills out his papers and hands them to the front desk, "Sorry I was so late, traffic was horrible." He states.
The receptionist doesn't seem to care, "You're being moved into the ten o'clock slot."
"Ten o'clock?!" He almost snaps, "That's way too late...I have to be back to my apartment by 10:30!"
She rolls her eyes and scoffs, "You were double scheduled anyway and we didn't know it until this morning. The other person came in first, so she's in there now."
He rolls his eyes this time, looking away and shaking his head. "I won't even be able to stay for my appointment." He says, "Just mark me off the list, I guess."
With that, he turns to walk out of the door. But he hears the doctor coming down the hall, talking again, "There's nothing medically wrong with you, Ms. Mills, I can't help you in any way other than to tell you to keep drinking your tea and-"
Ms. Mills, Robin thinks. He turns and gasps, "Regina!" He yells out, running to her and hugging her, almost knocking her slam over.
She grabs onto him, "Wh-Robin? How did you know I was here?" She asks, muffling her voice in his jacket.
"The bigger question is why didn't I know you were coming here?" He asks, holding her tighter than he really needed to.
She shakes her head and pulls away slowly, "It's nice seeing you, Robin, really, but I have to go. I can't be with you...your wife." She says, shaking her head still, "It was nice seeing you." She says, walking past him and making her way to the counter.
"That's all?" He asks sadly, his voice broken and his face contorted into a sad expression, "Here, I missed you so much that-" He stops, shaking his head, "Doesn't matter. Have a nice day, Regina." He snaps, pushing past her and walking to the door.
Once he exits, the receptionist looks up, "An ex?"
She nods, "A real pain in my ass." Regina replies, but just saying those words made her cringe. He's never been a pain in her ass after they got back from the Enchanted Forest. Never.
"Whatever you say." The receptionist replies, rolling her eyes as she sorts through Robin's papers to file. "He's a hottie."
"Excuse me?" Regina counters.
She looks up and huffs a laugh, "Oh come on."
Regina, rolling her eyes, hands her the money for her appointment, "Thanks but you people did me nothing." She snaps, grabbing her purse and walking out of the door.
When she turns the corner of the building, she sees Robin sitting on the hood of her car. His feet are dangling off of it and he's not paying a bit of attention to anything or anyone around him, looking down as he swings his legs back and forth.
She scoffs, "May I use my car?"
It apparently startles him, because he looks up abruptly and jumps off. "Oh- I...yeah." She walks past him without even looking in his eyes, trying to unlock her door but then he slides in between. "Don't you feel anything anymore?"
"Robin, now is not the time to be talking about what I feel. You have a wife."
He shakes his head, "But...I-I can't sleep at night."
She rolls her eyes, "Me either, that's why I'm at a sleep doctor named Dr. P. Low." She says, giving another eye roll as she finishes her sarcastic remark. "Let me leave, Robin, or so help me I'll-"
"Just hear me out."
"What can you possibly have to say, Robin? Honestly? Just let me go home so I can keep trying to forget you!" She snaps, looking up at him finally. "Go away. Please."
"I can't." He says, being insistent as he steps closer to her. "I know why I can't sleep. I know the reason." He says. "And I know the reason we were miraculously double-booked at this stupid place. We were meant to find each other again."
"You're delirious." She says after a moment, almost wanting to believe him. Her mind goes back to the leaves that fly into her window every once in a while, but she just scoffs and tries her car door again before he jumps in front of the handle.
He's shaking his head again, "Just...sleep with me. One time. Just so I know that I'm really that delirious."
"And where do you suppose we sleep, Robin? In your bed with your wife?"
"No..." He says. "I have money that I was going to use here. We can just rent a hotel for one day. Nothing...nothing sensual I swear. I just want to see...I want to see if we have the same problem." He says, taking a shaky breath as he waits for her to reply.
Her next breath is heavy and completely weighted. Her eyes are fixed on his bright blue ones, and they shouldn't be because she'll give in to anything with those. "Okay. Nothing sensual. I'm not some whore."
He's already on the other side of the car, though, getting in and buckling up before she can even finish rolling her eyes at him.
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…
"We're getting stared at." She says to him as they walk to the outdoor room, sticking their keycard in and going inside.
He shrugs, "Just because most people come here to do the deed doesn't mean we are." He replies to her, laying his wallet down on the table and slipping his shirt off like normal before lying down in the bed.
She bites her lip, completely freezing in her spot, and finally sets her purse down. "Sleeping, Robin." She says again.
"I thought you liked when I sleep with my shirt off?" He asks, furrowing a brow as he starts to pick his shirt up like a gentleman to put it back on.
She shakes her head, "I do." She replies, looking down as she kicks her shoes off and climbs into bed.
They turn to each other and he smiles, "What if this works?" He asks, "We can't sleep together every night..."
"Hopefully we can just...try to rest up now." She says, yawning already and closing her eyes.
In only a matter of a minute, both of their eyes are closed and Robin starts snoring.
They're sound asleep, side-by-side in this messy situation.