I own no one but my own people
The rain fell heavily. The gloomy London weather matching the mood of those surrounding the brilliant mahogany coffin almost a bit too perfectly.
Regina stood stoic in the front of the group that had gathered to pay their final respects to the man they all knew and loved and admired.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw everyone's eyes fluttering over to her, expecting her to break down in tears, to throw herself down on the casket, to show some outward sign of grief but that would come later; when she was alone in the room she once shared with her husband.
Now though; now she had to be strong. Not only for herself but for her twelve year old son and more importantly her five year old step son and her two year step daughter.
Roland had no one but Regina now. His mother Marian died in childbirth and his father laid in that coffin they were now all staring at, he needed the only parental figure he had left in his life not to fall apart.
An his daughter, his little peanut, his little Margot Robyn Locksley… her mother was in and out of rehabs and half the time Zelena couldn't even be bothered to remember she even had a daughter so Regina would be responsible for Margot too.
She had gone from a single mother of one pre-teen boy to a wife and mother of three beautiful children and was now back to being a single mother only this time with a young child and a toddler in tow, all in the span of a year and a half.
Regina had no idea how she was going to do this on her own, raising Henry as a single parent had been hard enough now she had three children? She had no idea how she was going to even get through the day much less the rest of her life without Robin by her side.
The priest was saying something now. Some grand decorations to God and a hundred other words that didn't capture who Robin was. They didn't capture his honor, his integrity, his kindness, his generosity, spirit… They certainly didn't capture the love Robin felt for his wife or children or his step son or his friends… no words could ever capture who he was, she realized. Not if she had a million years to come up with a speech or even just a five line sonnet. Nothing would ever do Robin's life justice.
Finally the Priest who had been one of Robins friend since his first communion finished his sermon and people began to slowly filter away to celebrate the life of their lost friend at his favorite pub.
Robin's best friend, a large burly man named John Little, slowly made his way over to Regina who hadn't moved a single step since she took her spot in front of the grave. John clapped a massive leather gloved hand on Regina's shoulder as the two of them stared at the coffin.
"Want me to take the kids to the pub?" he asked, his usually joyful voice thick with tears he was struggling not to let fall. "Give you a moment to say goodbye?"
Regina didn't say anything, instead choosing to just nod without taking her eyes from the casket that held her second chance at love.
John reached over and gave her a friendly comforting kiss on the side of her head before he picked up Margot, allowed Roland to give a small kiss to the casket before he took John's hand and led them from the coffin, stopping and looking back when they realized Henry wasn't with them.
"You want me to stay?" asked Henry, being answered with a silent shake of her head. Not know what else to do Henry hugged his mother as tight as he could, swallowing hard as she didn't even bother lifting her arms to hug him back. She just stood there, frozen in her grief, knowing that the moment she tried to speak sobs would rip past her lips and there would be no stopping or holding back.
Releasing the embrace, Henry gave her hand a quick squeeze before he turned and followed Little John out of the cemetery.
The moment they were out of eyesight, Regina fell to her knees, the rain soaking through her stockings and the short sharp blades of glass poking at her skin but she didn't feel it, nor did she feel the small rain drops stinging at her skin. She felt nothing but her overwhelming grief and pain and a million other agonizing emotions she couldn't put into words, so, instead, Regina merely threw her head back while a tormented animalistic scream ripped past her lips.
…
John flinched at the sound of the harrowing scream, the anguish and grief she was voicing cutting through him like a freshly sharpened knife.
Henry whipped back around but a strong hand on his shoulder prevented him from going anywhere.
"She's fine," John assured the frightened twelve year old. "She's okay, just- just let her do what she needs to do. She lost someone very important to her, Henry."
John graciously pretended not to notice the boy wipe his eyes with the back of his hand and gave him a moment to collect himself before they started walking back to the car.
However, when John saw a familiar black haired man leaning against the cemetery gate, his hand buried deep in his black leather jacket pockets, an anger he knew he wouldn't be able to control for long swelled inside him.
"Henry, take Roland and Margot and go to the car, I'll be right there," John told the boy who, when he saw the fire brewing in his eyes, knew far better than to argue with the large man so instead he just took Margot from him, grabbed hold of Roland's hands and made their way to the car.
John stormed up to the uninvited stranger, his hands curled into trembling fists. The black haired man looked up from the ground just long enough to see John grab him by the front of the shirt and slam him against the black metal gate with a loud crash.
The man knew better than to fight back and instead just grabbed hold of his assailants wrist with his one good hand less he get too angry with him.
"What the hell are you doing?!" John snarled getting within half an inch of his face. "You're not welcome here!"
"I was gonna go visit him after everyone was gone," said the black haired man. "I wanted to pay my respects."
"Your respects? Your RESPECTS?!" John slammed him against the gate again, making the blue eyed man wince in pain but still he wouldn't fight back. "HE DOESN'T WANT YOUR GODDAMN RESPECTS!"
"I said I was sorry!" the blue eyed man argued, not that it would do much good. He had said the words a hundred times and a hundred times he had been told the apology was meaningless.
This time was no different.
"Your sorries means shit! You're the reason…!" John had to force himself to steady his voice, less the tears he had been fighting against all day would come forward, "you're the reason I no longer have my best friend. You're the reason those kids don't have a dad, you're the reason Regina is a widow. You are the reason Robin is dead, Jack Rogers, and there's not enough sorries in the world to make up for that."
Rogers bowed his head in shame, not even lifting his head when John finally released from his iron grip.
The large man sniffed, pushing his wild locks of hair from his face and taking a shaking breath, getting as close to tears as he had gotten this whole rotten afternoon.
"Get out of here, Rogers," John warned him. "Regina's going through enough right now, she doesn't need to deal with seeing you too."
Without another word, and without another look towards the man John blamed for Robin's death, John turned and headed towards the car where the kids were waiting, leaving Rogers just as alone as he had been these past few weeks…
With both his real hand and his prosthetic buried deep in his pockets and his head bowed in shame, the black haired man turned and headed towards a pub he had very much frequented since the night that changed everyone's lives for the worse.
He took a seat at the far end of the bar, the bartender already handing him a tumbler of rum before he even got out his wallet. Rogers couldn't even bother lifting his head as thanks and instead just went to work on downing the harsh tasting liquid, hating the burn as it smothered down his throat but relishing it all the same, knowing he deserved this pain.
Glass after glass, shot after shot he drank the harsh tasting brown liquor until Rogers could barely see straight much less remember that the man he had admired was now dead because of him.
He didn't even look up until a rather sultry voice asked him if the seat beside him was taken. Rogers, barely able to lift his head, turned and looked at the woman who talked to him, his glossed over and bloodshot eyes looking her over.
She had a bohemian look about her, with her hair in thick pale blonde disheveled braids and icy blue eyes that seemed to pierce the very deepest parts of Rogers soul.
"I asked if this seat was taken," she purred and the voice stirred something inside of Rogers. Something be quite liked if he was being honest with himself…
Rogers shook his head, his head flopping back and forth in a rather drunken state.
The blue eyed woman flashed him a sinfully devilish grin and sat down beside the man she choose for the night, a long slit in her red dress teasing a lucious pale thigh that Rogers couldn't take his eyes off of.
"What's your name?" she asked her prey, running a finger down his arm rather suggestively.
"Rogers," he slurred, making the woman sitting beside him grin even wider.
He would be so easy…
"Jack Rogers, at your service. And you, my fair lady…?"
She smiled at him as she offered him her hand that he eagerly took and brought the back of it to his lips.
"My name is Eloise Gardner… but everyone just calls me Gothel."
Please Review! This was more the prologue, the actual story will start next chapter.