Part of her wants to give up. To stop the looking, stop the fighting, just stay in this safe house, away from the people who've gone mad with survival (is that even possible), away from all the terror. Just here, in this little cabin, tucked away. With him.

He hates this place. Hates the quiet. It's easier when they're in the chaos, he thinks. Fighting their way through this terror. He doesn't have to think then. Just on instinct it's; shoot, run, shoot, shoot some more, run, shoot. And so on until they find a place like this. A place he hates.

The quiet makes me start thinking. Of his son, of his friend, of her.

He could laugh at the irony of it. He couldn't stand her at first; this woman with her morals, and her uptight nature, and her disdain for everything that wasn't up to her standard. He found himself brooding frequently over what he had done to deserve being stuck with someone like her.

But over the months she started to grow on him. He might have admitted he even liked her company sometimes. She became less of a hindrance, it became less of a chore to keep her alive (not that she needed him to keep her alive, he found out) she became more of an ally, a friend of sorts, someone he could rely on.

Then she'd opened up to him one night. The night after he nearly lost her. For some reason, she'd confessed everything. Told him the unpleasant stories of her childhood, of how much she tried not to be like her mother was to her. Especially when it came to Henry. He saw the light spark in her eyes whenever she talked about him, but he also didn't miss the sadness that accompanied it. The question of why would he chose to find his real mother, a woman he's never known, a woman who just tossed him away, to a real mother who's loved him since he was born (and he was just born, she tells him. Those three short weeks don't make a difference). The reason why she was on this path.

But he'd known that since the beginning anyway. Because, the day that ten year old boy went off to find the other woman was the day the outbreak began- the day the disease started spreading. And a distress mother couldn't find her son.

And once said distress mother bared her soul to him that night, his dislike for her started to fade, they became friends almost and once the mask was ripped off completely, Robin began to realize that maybe people were right about love and hate being the same thing.

She has a fire going, a bad idea given the circumstances but it's cold, she's cold, freezing actually. She curls into herself more, tries to gather as much body heat as she can, the fire only helping a little bit maybe.

She doesn't know who long she's been sitting out here for. She had tried sitting inside but the silence had been too much, him in such proximity had been too much.

She'd tried to deny it. These feelings she has towards this man she's known for too long. Didn't think she could truly love anyone that way after Daniel. Yet she did, often wondered if he did too on those days she'd lie awake, her brain too full to switch off, lying next to him on the beds they find in the safe houses, or just the hard ground like the one she's sitting on right now. It had been in there, mixed within all the thoughts of Henry. Had he found this other woman yet? Was he dead? Had he been turned into….

No! She hasn't wanted to think that, hadn't wanted that familiar dread and worry that the next zombie they came across was going to be her sweet little boy, that was a fate worse than death. So, to steer away from it, she thought of Robin beside her, this confusion of feelings for him in this mess of a world and wondered was there any part of him that felt the same for her?

"Regina?"

She jumps slightly, automatically, the one part of herself she'd been unable to control regardless of the years of practice, another thing she had her mother to thank for, the people she grew up with to thank for.

She's too cold and tired for words so she simply hmms and it's enough for him as he carries on speaking.

"I thought you might want to come inside."

And she does, it'll be warmer in there, yet it's nice out here, quiet. A good quiet. No tension, no sadness, just peace which makes no sense considering what's going on out here. But she refuses because that misplaced peace is enough.

"Later, maybe. I just…want to stay out here for a bit."

He's moving closer then, and Regina feels her heart begins to hammer, the mixture of anxiety and excitement swirling together down in her stomach. She's caught between wanting him to leave and wanting him to stay. So she bites her lips, and waits for his next move.

He sits down next to her and he doesn't miss the way to moves a little to the side. It's to give him more space, he tells himself, they are on the edge of a cliff after all, yet the movement still stings all the same.

He thought they got somewhere that night when she told him everything, thought maybe something had formed between them. But maybe he was wrong. After all, he hadn't told her anything, still kept everything to himself after all these months. Hell, she doesn't even know why he's here, what happened to his son….

He breathes out into the quiet air, shivers slightly when a cold wind blows past them. His fingers lace together loosely as he sighs and the words come tumbling out before he has a chance to stop them.

"I lost my son too, you know."

It's out now, and he feels like a whole ton of weight has just been lifted off him, feels like the first breath of air after being stuck under water for so long.

Regina's what is hard, maybe even a glimmer of confusion is in there, too and Robin has no choice but to carry on.

"When this mess first started, we tried to get out of the town," he doesn't look her way as he speaks, stares down at the town that doesn't look so much different to their own. "Me, my friend, and my son. Our car got flipped off the road- we were alright, kind of, Roland- my son- he couldn't walk…." That familiar lump returns, and he's fighting back tears that so desperately want to spill out. So he pauses, tries to gather himself again, tries to get the story out, tries to grieve…

She's looking at him. Waiting. Not pushing. Letting him take his time. Like he did with her.

Robin breathes one last time and continues. "I started carrying him the rest of the way, we lost John a while back- hell, I don't even know if he's still alive. And then...me and Roland got to the edge of the town, we were almost free and…" his hands tighten together, the relief when Robin saw the town line, and the fear when he realized what was going to happen. "There was an official there, alone, taking to this other guy through the microphone. It was crypted but I understood every word…" He looks her way now, unable to stop the tears anymore as his heart heaves at the memory. Even her eyes are glassy, she knows how this ends, neither needs to hear anymore, but he continues…the manner of his son's death needs to be known...even if it is just to one other person. "He got the orders to shoot, all I wanted to do was find some help, but there was no talking the guy out of it...I thought we were okay, I thought he'd missed but then, I heard whimpering and then he…"

Regina's moving beside him then, grabbing his arm and pulling him into her. And he goes willing, seeks comfort in her embrace, allows himself to depend on her this time and just grieves properly for the first time in months.

"I'm sorry." she says, the words muffled into the top of his head.

He turns his own head, breathes in her scent. "You know what makes it worse? I didn't even give him a proper burial."

Regina doesn't say anything, they just hold each other, cling on to their last bit of hope- each other.

Somewhere in the distance, there's an explosion, smoke rising into the air from the spot and Regina's the one moving out of the embrace.

"Come on. We should go back inside. We have to leave tomorrow."

Robin nods, stands up, his legs stiff from the position and follows her inside.

A few minutes later, when they're both lying next to each other on that old straw bed, he voice cuts through that silence that he hates.

"If you've lost everything, why are you here helping me?"

Robin sighs, a question he's asked himself millions of times, never really finding the answer. Until now.

"I couldn't protect my son, Regina, but maybe I can protect yours."

And it's enough. The answer is enough for she's smiling, curling closer into him and Robin throws his arm around her, keeping her in place as she whispers a thank you.

Robin lays a week a little longer, his heart still heavy but finding it a little lighter.

Tomorrow will be easier, he tells himself. Tomorrow will always be easier.