It's one year to the day. One year since the love of her life was torn away from her, his soul ripped to shreds and her heart along with it. Everyone says it will get better, just give it time, but it's been a year and if anything it hurts more now— it's an open wound that's been festering all year. All she can feel is that sucker punch of loss and there are no villains to distract her, no problem that needs fixing she can throw herself into, to have something else, anything else, to focus on.
She's denied the pain for so long, tried to push and pretend to be okay in hopes that eventually, she would be. In hopes that if she didn't talk about it, didn't acknowledge it, smiled and acted happy she'd get there. That this emptiness and soul-crushing feeling that part of her is missing (because it is) would go away. That a stray thought of Robin wouldn't send her to her knees at the sheer unfairness of it all. That it would stop hurting to breathe every time she wraps herself in his sweater, the one that somehow still smells like him. That reading his letter so many times she has it memorized would take away some of the sting, but it hasn't.
She thought she'd stop waking up every day praying that she'd find out this had just been some bad dream. She thought the hurt of it being real, that he's really gone would start to soften, but it hasn't.
It should have been her.
It would have been easier for everyone it if it was her.
But it wasn't and the pain of his loss is a torture that she has to live with every day.
She can't go on living this way, if this can even be considered living. She has this fear that she will never find a way to heal her soul. That she will wander aimlessly without a sense of purpose, for the rest of her life. She feels half alive without him. She shouldn't need him, shouldn't have become so dependent, but she does and it hurts. It hits her when she least expects it and she has to use all of her strength to hold it together when her body is screaming at her to let go, to let the pain take over.
But if she does that, she'll never come back. She let that happen before, with Daniel, let the pain consume her, let it bend and break her. She can't go back to that, but she can't keep up this facade.
Something has to give.
So here she sits, in front of Robin's grave in the cold darkness alone, her heart broken, tears falling steadily. It's not fair. She needs to say goodbye, but she can't, she can't let go, just the idea makes her chest tighten, drives her to seek out a distraction, any distraction. It's not healthy, none of this is healthy. It's culminated in her sobbing violently on his grave in the middle of the night.
She can't go on like this, she's trapped by the fear (her probable reality) that she will never find a way to heal. It took decades to get over Daniel and at least she knew he was in a better place. Robin was her soulmate, and now his soul, his very essence, that part that was connected to her has been obliterated.
She places a hand on his stone and whispers, "I can't do it anymore, if you are out there please, please find your way back to me. I need you, god I miss you so much."
Sobs wrack her body as she thinks about how he can't do that, he's gone, obliterated, because of her, because he loved her. How Roland would still have his father, hell and his mother, if it wasn't for her.
She deserves this pain, but he doesn't. She ruined that sweet boy's life and so maybe this pain, this agony is her punishment. She deserves to be punished deserves to feel the loss but she's not strong enough, she can't take it.
It's too much, it's all too much, all too overwhelming. She buries her face in her hands, tears still streaming.
This is torture, absolute bloody torture, watching his love fall apart at his grave and knowing there is nothing he can do for her. His heart aches for her, longs to tell her that he will be back, that they will see each other again but he can't. He doesn't know when just that he will come back to her, someday, hopefully soon. He doesn't know how it will happen only that it will; Zeus promised him. It's what keeps him going and he wishes he could share it with her.
It's so hard for him to watch her like this, to see the struggles, turmoil and pain she's been keeping private from everyone else. She needs to let go and let it out, to stop blaming herself and thinking she deserves to feel this way, some sort of twisted punishment for all of her past crimes.
She cries and cries and then she goes silent. He hates this, but he can't look away can't leave her, not when she's grieving over him.
She dreams of him often, when she does he can see it. It's odd watching someone else's dreams. More often than not she dreams that he blames her that he's mad at her. He tries dammit it, he tries so hard to take over the dream version of himself, to offer her comfort but it never works.
He reaches for her now, but he can't touch her, can only watch as her eyes flutter closed. She's worn herself out crying, but isn't making the effort to poof herself home.
He looks more closely at her face, reddened and tear stained but still stunning. She's breathing steadily, her eyes unmoving. His heart tugs again when he realizes she's cried herself to sleep, outside in the cold, against his gravestone.
He stays there watching her as the minutes' pass, no one around to notice her. She came late at night for that reason but he hopes someone will walk by, someone will wake her so she doesn't get sick from sleeping in the cold.
He sees it the moment she starts dreaming, she's dreaming of him, unsurprising given how she fell asleep. He's there, glowering at her as Roland screams at her for taking away both of his parents. He longs to point out that if he's there in this dream then he's alive and Roland's wrong, but it's her dream. She takes it, stammering out apologies between harsh words from both dream him and Roland about how she ruined their lives.
"I know and I'm sorry, god I'm so sorry, and I can't, it's all my fault I wish I could change it, I would give anything to change it." She's sobbing again, and he can't watch this, it's too much. She needs to know how much he loves her, needs to know that Roland doesn't blame her. He reaches for her sleeping form, tries to wake her and this time, for some reason, he actually touches her. She jolts awake— except not really awake because he can look over and see her sleeping behind him.
This is it this is his chance and he's well, stunned, frozen. Needs to form words but can't.
Regina asks, "Robin?" and then she really looks at him and asks, "Is this a dream?"
He can see why she's confused, she'd been pulled from a dream by him and now the setting of this dream is his grave, right where she fell asleep.
He needs to lighten the moment, can't bear the thought of her still thinking about the terrible things dream him was saying to her, "Well if it is then it's an excellent one."
She smiles back at him. "I thought you were gone."
"I am," he tells her, then reaches for her, praying he'll finally be able to touch his love again. And it works, he touches her heart and tells her, "But I'm also in here."
She melts into his hand and her hand touches his, for the first time in a year and his heart jumps he tells her, "I'm always in here."
She's grabbing his hand with both of hers, lowering her face to it, taking him in. And he understands that longs to do the same but doesn't want to push his luck, doesn't want to be too greedy and get kicked out of this moment.
What she says next breaks his heart even though she's smiling at him. "I've missed you."
He tells her plainly, truthfully, "I know."
They just stare at each other for a minute her hands still clutching his then he pulls her into his arms. "I've been watching you love and I can't bear to see you like this, I love you and I don't blame you, I just want you to be happy."
She slides her hand onto his face, as she confesses, "I don't know how to do that."
He looks deeply into her eyes as he tells her, "You do love, it's inside of you, you just need to let go of all that guilt and stop punishing yourself. I love you so much Regina, if you can't do it for you, please I beg of you, do it for me."
She nods slightly then pulls him in for a soft kiss. When he pulls away he tries to tell her that they will be reunited again someday but the words stick in his throat. He can feel himself slipping away as he pushes to tell her and fuck. No! This isn't enough time.
He holds her tight, kisses her again and reaches for his pocket pulling out a red feather he presses into her palm as he is swept away. He hopes she got it, prays it doesn't end up like that last feather he tried to send her.
She wakes with it still in her hand and looks at it curiously. She presses it to her heart looking around for him, her face disappointed when she doesn't spy him. He is here, he's watching again but he can no longer reach her.
He knows her, knows she will convince herself this was nothing, but one day, that day when he finally returns to her, once their children are safe from harm, she will know it wasn't a dream.