Paroxysm

by wishesonfallenstars

Her son is gone and she has a deranged half-sister on the warpath. Owen's little temper tantrum is a mere blip on the radar compared to that. If only her body would get the memo. Or, Regina has to deal with severe nerve and muscle damage after being electrocuted all while navigating grief over Henry, a green skinned sister, and a thief who can't seem to leave her be.

1. I

I have a lot of reasons for writing this, first I never liked how little the show dealt with the after-effects of electrical torture, second I've been electrocuted myself and I still have nerve damage, third I seem to really like writing angst and the idea came to me after a season 2 re-watch.So here's what was meant to be a one shot based around how Regina deals with the aftermath of her torture during the missing year, on top of everything else that happens in 3B.
All the medical articles I read are cited on my tumblr (x-wishesonfallenstars-x).
Trigger Warnings: mentions of marital rape, mentions of past child abuse, allusions to eating disorders, unhealthy coping mechanisms, talk of torture.

---

She doesn't consider it a problem. It's more of a nuisance, especially now. She has trekked across Neverland, dealt with Pan and his games, and managed to save her son all without anyone noticing that sometimes she couldn't quite make her hands (or any part of her body really) cooperate. They come less often now. Once a day. Maybe more if it's a bad day, but they're not every hour or so anymore. And they don't last as long, not all of them anyway.

She has better things to worry about now, more important than her body betraying her. Her son is gone and she has a deranged half-sister on the warpath. Owen's little temper tantrum is a mere blip on the radar compared to that.

If only her body would get the memo.

She'd had tremors for hours after they'd found her. Too tired and in too much pain to heal herself properly. Blue had removed the cuff, yes, but any healing had been left for Regina to do herself. Healing never was a strength of hers, but she did manage to fix her dislocated shoulder before anyone noticed. She'd googled why it happened in the brief moments between Neverland and stopping Pan's new curse. Her seizing muscles had ripped the joint from her socket. She hadn't even felt it at the time. Had only realised when she regained consciousness and it remained limp and agonising at her side. It still doesn't rotate all the way around, and that fucking winged beast hadn't helped matters any either.

The bruised and fractured ribs she'd mostly left alone. Reducing, instead, the contact burns on her fingertips, forearms and temples to barely there silver disks when her head finally stopped spinning from relocating her arm. The business in the mines with Emma probably didn't help. In fact she definitely re-broke the one rib she had managed to heal at that point.

Her time in Neverland taught her to know, most of the time at least, when a seizure was coming (even in her own head it's spat with disdain; she really fucking hates knowing she's having some form of seizure). So… that's something to be thankful for. Is thankful even the right word? The voice in the back of her head, the one that sounds like her mother, hisses that she's weak when one starts. That she should not be so affected by something that happened months ago. That she was the god damn Evil Queen. Owen was nothing. Less than nothing compared to her.

That she was broken.

Regina spends most of the nights back in her castle awake. She alternates between her chaise, staring into the fire, or sat against the railings of her balcony. Staring at nothing. She's on the balcony tonight and her hands are still shaking. Regina had barely got to her room before her leg gave out and her hands started to tremble enough to shake her entire arms.

It's been awhile since she had had one this bad. One where more than one muscle group rebelled against her. Not since Neverland. Before she went off on her own, luckily she'd been the one on watch. Everyone else asleep by the time she'd felt that first tingle. None of them had woken; she's always been good at keeping quiet. Regina had almost forgotten how it felt, losing complete control of herself. She's not entirely sure how she feels now that she remembers.

She's starting to be able to pick up triggers. Stress and exhaustion being the main ones. But considering the state of everything right now, Regina doesn't see either of those things easing off any time soon. Snow keeps giving her these looks as well. Like she's trying to figure out if something other than the obvious is wrong. They may be on relatively good terms nowadays but most of the time Regina thinks that she would rather give electrocution another go than let the Uncharmings know something might be wrong. Because nothing is wrong.

She knows enough about electrical injuries to have a vague idea of what has happened to her. From her own brief internet session before returning to this wretched land that never really felt like home (not since Daniel), or from vague memories of helping Henry with his science homework back when he still wanted it. The rest she works out with common sense.

Owen had placed two of the electrodes on her temples, even without the direct stimulation to her brain he'd kept her there for long enough that Regina would honestly be mildly surprised if she had gone back to normal right away. But she never expected this; never expected it would be something her magic couldn't fix. He'd damaged something in her frontal or parietal lobe, hell it might be both of them. Another voice, a smaller, meeker one whispers that she's hit her head enough in her lifetime that that probably hasn't helped any either. Just how irreparable it is she has no idea. Though she is starting to realise that this is not really getting better, let alone going away anytime soon.

It's clarity that sits in her stomach like lead.

---

Snow is still giving her those looks. The ones that are trying to work out what is going on with her. Grief over Henry is only going to get her so much understanding before the questions would start. Regina isn't going to be able to avoid them for much longer. Charming has already come across her in one of her libraries, already seen her stumble when her knee gives out as she stands. She manages to pass it off as a dead leg from sitting for too long but that excuse can only be used so many times.

Stubbornness keeps her trying to heal something she, deep down, already knows cannot be healed with magic. The cynical part of her whispers that it probably can't even be healed with time. Even if she were still in Storybrooke with MRIs and modern medicine. Even if she had been taught healing magic Regina very much doubts she'd be able to do much with her damaged nervous system, and hell if that isn't something that sits in the back of her mind every time she struggles to pick up her goddamn knife and fork.

After the third time her fingers twitch and nearly send her cutlery clattering to her plate in the banquet hall, with the possibility of everyone's eyes on her, Regina starts to take her meals, those she eats at least, exclusively in her private rooms. It's another thing that has Snow raising her eyebrows at her husband when she thinks Regina can't see, but it is still better than something happening in front of the whole fucking town, and the… strays they've picked up since landing back in the Enchanted Forest. She'll take the tutting and pointed looks at her waistline over that every time. She's never had much of an appetite anyway, and it's always the first thing to go whenever her stress levels spike. She's lost more weight in the last few years than she cares to think about. Snow can glare all she wants, but with everything that's going on hunger isn't something she feels anymore.

She can handle the glares from Snow, they're still finding their feet with working together, with not being constantly at war; Snow won't berate her about this. Not out loud. Not yet. But he doesn't have that ever so fragile and new alliance to worry about. Nor the pages and pages of bloody history. A thief with a misplaced sense of honour. And he's already proven he has no issue going toe-to-toe with her over… well over anything really. And he is always smirking at her after, daring her to do something. Just what that is she has yet to figure out, but it makes her stomach flip when she sees it. Pathetic, that vicious voice that never stops sounding like Cora whispers.

"Regina?"

Her eyes snap towards where David has clearly been trying to get her attention. All eyes of the council table are on her, she gathers that they've been calling her name for a while now.

Snow jumps in before she is forced to ask what she had missed. "We are going around in circles."

"Snow -"

"We are, Charming. We have only got the vaguest idea of what she is after, any scouting parties we have sent out either come back significantly smaller, or empty handed. She is constantly five steps ahead of us, and we are no closer to figuring her out than we were when we first got back."

Charming turns back to face Regina, "There's been no luck with finding out what she's after?"

Shaking her head, she shoves her twitching left hand under her thigh, and stares across the table at the Prince. "Like I said in the last sham of a war council, she doesn't care if I can find out where she's been because she's clearly not worried about me figuring out why she's even going to those parts of the Forest. If her reasons make sense, they only do to her right now." Her hand gives a sharper, harder twitch, her elbow jerking. "And dragging me into these pointless little meetings when I could be working on finding that out, isn't going to speed the process along." It goes back to minutely shaking, enough that she figures she's safe enough to make her exit.

Standing up she levels the table with a glare, "Now, I'm assuming that there isn't really anything of any actual importance to discuss, so if you don't mind I think I am going to go back to trying to work out why that Witch is here."

---

"You know, you might want to consider brushing up on those acting skills of yours, milady."

"Excuse me?"

Hood raises his eyebrows at her glare. "Well, if you're going to keep telling everyone who asks that you're fine, you might want to practise those smiles of yours a bit more," he says. Then he gestures to where her hands are gripping at the edge of the table she'd been piling books upon, "There's also that."

Regina's eyes snap down to the white knuckled grip she has on the table, one she'd grabbed onto before knowing he was in the library when she felt her knee almost give out. She'd slammed her hands down to keep herself from the stone floor; the chairs being too far away to sit down. "I'm just a little woozy; I forgot to each lunch."

"I might be a thief, Your Majesty, but even I know skipping meals when they're readily available isn't the best idea."

Rolling her eyes she raises her head to see him staring at her, "What are you, my keeper? It was a dizzy spell, and it's already passed."

"Is that so?"

God, she'd love to smack that smug little smirk off of his face. Narrowing her eyes at him, she squares her shoulders and opens her mouth to argue back.

"Then let go of the table."

"What?"

He moves closer until he's scant few inches away, pointedly looks down at where one of his hands is reaching out to cover one of hers. "Let go of the table, Regina."

Gritting her teeth she glares down at her knuckles, willing them to unclench. But then her knee gives another, stronger, wobble and she knows she can't. She lets go and she will more than likely end up on the floor. She doesn't and he gets confirmation of whatever it is he suspects. And right now she cannot tell which one would be worse. There's another spasm just above her knee this time and she knows that if they're getting closer together, that holding onto the table isn't going to help her for much longer. And that damn outlaw is not leaving anytime soon. Regina can feel her eyes stinging with humiliated, frustrated tears that, luckily, don't fall.

"You are shaking, milady," When she doesn't answer his grip tightens on her hand, "Ok… will you let me help you?" The only reaction she has is to clench her jaw. "No one else is in here, and the door is shut so no one else will come in here, no one will find out. Will you let me help you?"

She goes to tell him she doesn't need help, least of all from him but her leg chooses that moment to buckle again and she's jolting forwards over the table, throwing more of her body weight onto her already straining wrists in an attempt to balance herself. There's an exasperated huff before the arm not covering her hand wraps around her waist, tightening until he has a solid hold of her.

"You can let go now," She shakes her head, because no she really can't, "I've got you." She still doesn't move, ignores the urge to lean into him, to let him help and glares at her hands with her teeth grinding together. "Gods above you're a stubborn one."

Regina bites back another retort and focuses on getting her body back under control long enough to prove that she doesn't need this damn thief's fucking help but her wrists finally buckle and Hood is suddenly the only thing keeping her upright. It also means he's made aware that saying she's shaking is putting it mildly. Angry tears flood her eyes again as Hood shifts to secure his hold on her. "Right… see that couch, over there?" He jerks his chin to one of the overstuffed, musty smelling couches under a window behind them, "All you have to do, is get to that couch."

It is barely six feet away, but that six feet is starting to look like crossing the Amazon. Steeling herself she moves to grip onto the arms Hood has wrapped around her waist, grits her teeth and nods. She manages to hobble a few inches, using him as a human crutch before her leg completely craps out, she growls out a curse as Hood somehow manages to swing her completely into his arms and deposit her onto the couch in a few moves. Crouching down he grips her hands between his. "What can I do?"

"Y-you've do-done plenty," She means it come out much more scathing than it does. By the half smile on his face and concern still obvious in his eyes she doesn't even come close to it.

"How do you stop it?"

She very nearly laughs, because that's the million dollar question isn't it? But if she laughs Regina's pretty sure those tears blurring her vision will finally fall, and he has already seen her weak enough for one lifetime. "Just… just ha-have to wai-ait it out." Her left bicep has joined the party since he placed her oh-so-delicately on the couch, her brain feels like it's rattling around in her skull and she has to fight to get each word out.

"They're not normally this… violent," he rolls his eyes at her confused look, "I've hardly survived this long by not noticing what's going on around me. Like I said; you need to work on your acting."

Despite herself she feels the corner of her lips pull up briefly. Her muscles have started to calm down and based on the grip Hood has on her hand loosening, he's also realised. He stays silent until she uncurls, legs moving from the couch cushions to settle on the stone floor, she's shaking less noticeably now. The thief moves from his crouch to sit next to her, careful to keep a safe distance between them, briefly she wonders if his knees ache at all but she isn't really aware of just how long this one has lasted so far. "No one else has noticed, if that's what you're worried about."

She refuses to look at him, eyes glued to her knees, studying the navy velvet covering them, "It's not, but I sup-ose that's one thing a-about this mess that I ca-can be glad about."

He doesn't answer, but she sees him stand up and move towards the door. For a moment she thinks he might be leaving and she ignores the way her stomach drops, but all he does is move to a table by the door. He's back before she can really think about what that stomach lurch was about, sitting back down and offering a water skin.

She accepts the drink, takes a rather messy gulp with her hands still shivering but she doesn't spill it all down her front, so she takes it as a win. "H-how did you really know? About…" she sighs and makes a vague gesture with her hand.

"About your… condition?"

Regina furrows her brows because that makes it sound like she has some sort of disease. Makes it sound permanent. It probably is. "Yes. I've been uh, I've been very carefu-ul."

"My boy," he says, elaborating when she quirks an eyebrow at him, "Roland saw you fall a few weeks ago. It was after you said he could be your friend, he came running to find me rambling about you not getting back up once he'd left, you'd gone by the time we'd returned to your garden but he was insistent," he shrugs, "so I started paying a bit more attention."

"R-Roland saw?"

"Aye, it scared him."

She drops her head into her still slightly shaking hands, speaks softly to her knees instead of him, "I didn't mean to scare him."

A quiet laugh makes her look up at him, frowning when he smiles at her like she has completely missed the point. "Roland wasn't scared of you, milady; he was scared for you. That boy of mine is quite taken with you," his smile brightens a little at the thought of his toddler, "and I'm starting to see why."

---

After that day he's everywhere. Sometimes it's just him, but sometimes Roland's there with him too, smiling up at her and asking if she wants to play, or go for a walk, or on an adventure of some kind. It makes her heart ache for another little boy with a thousand-watt smile begging her to play Pepper Potts to his Iron Man. But she can't turn him down, not when he is so earnest in his requests, can't bring herself to be the one who makes that smile of his dim. Even when she does have somewhere she needs to be, some council meeting or other obligation of being Queen to this destitute land she always promises that she'll find him as soon she's finished. Even teaches him what a pinkie-swear is, tells him it's the most powerful promise anyone can make, that breaking it is impossible in any realm. His whole face lights up at that and he spends the rest of that day telling anyone who listens that his best friend is the Queen.

"I'm allowed to call her Regina, Uncle John! And, and, and tomorrow she's gonna spend all day with me! She pinkie-swore." Little John bites back a laugh at that, words all slurred together from age and his level of excitement. He gasps with the appropriate amount of awe that Roland is clearly expecting as he carries the hyperactive little boy off to lunch. He may not like her much but he never voices it in front of Roland, in fact he's even been limiting the amount of comments he seems to make whenever Hood is there too.

His father sends Regina a grin as he leaves the duo in the doorway to the Council chamber. And when he mutters "You just made my boy's week, milady," as he slips past her to his seat she absolutely does not shiver. She does, however, narrow her eyes at him when Snow walks in, baby bump now starting to show, and see them sitting there alone without arguing. They may be getting along better now, more bickering than full on arguments, but the last thing she needs right now is for Snow White to add to her near constant headache with little comments about him being 'cute'.

The meeting seems to drag on forever, now that they know Rumple's alive and under Zelena's control and she's after the Charming's offspring for some yet undisclosed reason, everything is about how to stop her. Or how to get Rumplestiltskin back in his own mind. Or how to protect the baby when they don't even know what she wants it for, just that she does. It would be different if any of them had any idea on how to do any of that. But they're still playing catch up and it's giving her a migraine, and she can't feel any tremors just yet but she honestly wouldn't be the slightest bit shocked if they start up.

The thief grabs her elbow as she leaves the room, Charming and Snow with a distraught Belle the only ones left, pulls her around the corner to an empty section of hallway.

"The Hell do -" a sandwich is pressed into her hands, cutting her off. Robin then tugs an apple out of his pocket. "Wh-what is this?"

"You didn't eat breakfast, nor were you anywhere to be seen at lunch."

"I eat in my room."

"Aye, and did you actually eat anything of any substance today?" He's got that fucking look in his eyes again, one that's starting to become all too familiar; the look that says he'll know if she lies to him. And he throws her off balance so much that he probably would.

So she diverts the conversation instead. "Where the hell did you get this? Where were you even hiding it?"

"I'm a thief, Regina, as you are so keen to keep pointing out. Do you really need to ask that question? Besides," he smirks at her, the same one that his son uses on people to try and get out of trouble, "I didn't steal it, I stopped by the kitchens on my way here and asked Granny to make it. The apple is from Roland; he says you like the ones from your tree best."

Regina glares at him but she's learning that she might have finally met someone who can out stubborn her. Normally she'd start a fight, but she just doesn't have the energy today. Her glare doesn't lessen but she does take a bite out of the sandwich. Turkey with cranberry sauce, the closest Granny has been able get to Regina's favourite seasonal Panini from the Diner.

"You look tired."

Rolling her eyes Regina swallows, "I didn't sleep very well last night, if you must know."

"Do you ever?"

"And what is that meant to mean, Hood?"

Robin is still wearing a smile, but it's smaller, more understanding and for some reason it doesn't make her skin itch the way it does when Charming or Snow or even Granny give her a similar one. "Just that you've been looking tired a lot lately. More so than usual," He shrugs, presses the apple into her now sandwich free hands, "And I hear you're going on an adventure with my boy tomorrow. He's an energetic one; you'll need your strength if you're to help him in whatever quest it is this time."

Despite herself she feels her lips quirk in a ghost of a smile back at him, "He said we're going troll hunting."

Robin nods sagely, "Ah yes, sneaky little devils those trolls," She laughs, a small, short thing and she misses the way his eyes brighten when it slips out because she ducks her head immediately. But the smile stays on her face; she still remembers letting a three-year-old Henry drag her around their garden with butterfly nets, determined to spot Nymphs, or Fairies, or some other woodland sprite. Can still remember how vivid his imagination was every time he'd pretend to have caught one of the trolls that were supposedly terrorising them. Her smile takes on a bittersweet tinge.

He must notice it, must notice how it morphs into a frown but he doesn't bring it up, instead he grins and says, "Well, I'm leading a short scouting mission tomorrow, so if he gets to be too much just force Tuck to take him."

"Scouting mission?"

"Well, more of a supply run with a scouting mission built in, if we're being honest. We need to build up our wood supply while the snows have died down, meat stores could also do with it if we spot anything."

"Oh," she nods, logically knowing somewhere in the back of her mind that some of their people would be venturing out on one sooner or later, before the snow became too deep again. "How long for?" When she hears how that sounds she hastens to add, "You know, for if Roland asks. I wouldn't want to lie to him," The last part is hushed, because she wouldn't, she can't lie to a child she's coming to care for. Not after how she lied to Henry.

"It depends, it's only meant to be two days. But we may have to venture further out if we don't come across any game," Robin shifts, moves to lean against a tapestry covered wall while one hand rubs at the back of his neck. "It could easily become more, but we've been told to be back on the fifth day unless it can't be helped."

Regina's frown deepens at that, "What if something happens? What do I, what do we tell Roland?"

And it is obvious Robin didn't miss that little slip either, but he just smiles at her. "Well, I've been on longer jobs before, he knows that sometimes I have to go for a few days at a time. He doesn't always like it, but he does understand as well as he can at his age. I've told him and Tuck that he's welcome to spend as much time with you as he wants, providing he's not bothering you or getting in the way. If he gets too much, or you have something you need to be doing more than chasing garden trolls… don't feel like you can't pass him back to his uncle. But as far as he and I are concerned he'll enjoy his time more if he spends it with you."

She doesn't quite know what to say to that. She's spent plenty of time with just Roland over the last several weeks, even more so since Robin helped her in the library, but that's always been while he knows where they are and what they'll be doing, and that she'll have him back to his father before supper time. This is different. He's giving her permission to be Roland's main babysitter while he's away. Part of her thinks this should make her feel uncomfortable, make that squirmy, acidic, churning in her stomach start to act up. The same way it does whenever she's trusted with such a large responsibility as if it is nothing. But it doesn't. Robin's never made her feel like she's anything but trustworthy since they met; the hours he lets her spend with the most important person in his life without so much as batting an eyelid proves that.

God, she'd barely trusted anyone to watch Henry for a few measly hours, let alone what could potentially be just under week. She's gobsmacked, and bastard that he is, he knows exactly what he's done. Determined not to let him see just how deeply she's touched by it, Regina forces a smirk onto her face, "And how happy is the dear Friar about all this? Surely spending so much unchecked time with the Evil Queen would lead your boy astray."

Robin laughs, no hint of anything other than delight in his eyes and she doesn't understand him at all. Doesn't understand this man who should, by anyone's standards, want her as far away from his child as possible. For the life of her, Regina cannot comprehend just why, or even how really, Robin trusts her around Roland and has done from the beginning.

"Milady, I believe that if anyone will be leading someone astray it'll be Roland; I've yet to see you successfully say no to him. In fact I'd wager he has you telling him multiple bedtime stories by the second night," He says with laughter still clinging to his voice.

She'd argue but he's right. He's right and she hates that he knows he is; no one can say no to that little boy's dimples and puppy dog eyes. Least of all her. "And what happens if I don't get bored of hunting garden trolls, or I decide to skirt my council responsibilities?"

"Ah, well in the event of that Your Majesty," he leans in slightly, smile smaller but still clear as day, "I would say you're going to have a very happy four year old on your hands."

She doesn't realise how close they've been standing until she drops her head, a small, shy smile forming at the thought of Roland adamantly going around telling anyone who will listen that she's his friend and feels the collar of his shirt brush against her forehead. Startled, she jerks up at that and steps back into the wall behind her, the cold stone helping to cool the flush she can feel rising in her cheeks. Robin seems to notice if the sheepish look he gives her is anything to go by. And when he takes a step back Regina can't quite tell if she's grateful or if she wishes he'd follow.

Because they were flirting. She's been out of the game for a while, doesn't know if she ever really got into it in the first place, if her and Graham ever even flirted under the curse, but she's pretty fucking sure they were flirting.

"Right, well I should be off, I've got to get things ready for tomorrow morning. I'll leave you to it," he says, pointedly looking down at the apple she's taken one bite out of, "and I'll drop Roland off to your rooms after breakfast."

---

Somehow she lets Roland talk her into coming down with him to say goodbye properly. She doesn't even really attempt to change his mind, it only takes one look at his huge brown eyes as he solemnly informs her that he said goodbye to his papa before being dropped here by his Uncle Tuck but he needs to see him again. Then he pulls out a strip of woven fabric with little wooden beads dotted throughout. It looks so much like the friendship bracelets Henry would make for her at preschool that he's barely finished insisting "He really needs it, Regina, 'cause it's lucky! An' it'll make sure he comes home to us," that she finds herself nodding, scooping him up and transporting them to the castle gates before she's got him settled on her hip properly.

Robin is standing next to one of the few horses they have, squatting as he roots around in one of the packs on the ground. And she definitely does not let her gaze linger as he bends forwards briefly. Especially considering she's got his son in her arms. His son who yells for his father's attention before she can tear her eyes away if the knowing smirk he gives her is anything to go by.

"Hello, I thought we'd said our goodbyes?" He reaches for Roland, grins at Regina as he situates the boy into his hip.

"We did! But I forgots to give you this," the woven bracelet is thrust up into the air between father and son. "It's lucky, papa, so you gotsta wear it the whole time," the look on his little face is so serious that Robin quickly drops his smile, nodding and narrowing his eyes as Roland places his hands on either cheek, forcing his father to look into his eyes. Henry used to do the same thing when he was little, particularly when he was double checking that she definitely sent Santa his letter. Regina figures it must a thing that all children do, and for once, though it does still send a sharp stab through her heart, it doesn't hurt more than it endears her.

"Well if it is lucky I'd best put it on now, hadn't I my boy?" Roland nods, curls bouncing wildly as he turns to wave Regina forward.

"Regina, you put it on 'im, you' better at it than me," he says, grin so infectious she doesn't even try to think of a reason not to as Robin extends the wrist not holding him. She scrunches her nose at Roland as she ties the bracelet around, assuring them both that she's tied it extra tight so it won't come loose. "'Member to keep it on for always, okay papa?"

Robin nods like it's the most serious promise he's ever made, "I swear, it won't come off until you tell me it can," Roland holds a pinkie up and his grin widens when Robin links it with his own. "See, now I can't break my promise." Roland lands a smacking, damp kiss on Robin's cheek before fidgeting until he's put down and able to race towards Little John, screeching happily when he's swung high into the air.

"You know," Robin starts, nudging her shoulder with his, "we aren't leaving for another half an hour… you could have walked down here in plenty of time."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Regina purses her lips, "He was very insistent that we get it to you as soon as possible, didn't seem like a big deal to use magic. Plus," she folds her arms across her chest and jerks her chin towards where Roland is now 'helping' John inspect their weapons, "he gets a little more time with you all this way."

She doesn't mean to, but she can't help the haze of grief that settles over her. Because she'd give anything, in this realm and all the others, to have had just a little bit longer with Henry. And god, Robin seems to get it, seems to get that part of her attachment to Roland is how he reminds her of him, of her little prince and for some reason she cannot fathom he doesn't begrudge her time with him. His smile drops slightly, a sad one she's used to getting nowadays whenever anything even remotely hints at the fact that she's a mom.

Was a mom. Is she still a mom? He might not remember it, but Henry is still hers. On anyone else it infuriates her, it used to from Robin too until she noticed his eyes had a lack of pity in them. Empathy yes, but never pity. Not like everyone else in this fucking world.

"Well," Robin thankfully turns away to face his son again as he speaks, "I'm glad you used magic then."

"I thought you hated magic," she says.

Robin clears his throat, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, "Ah, it's not so much that I hate it… I mistrust it."

"But -"

"Regina, I might dislike it on most days and maybe one day I'll tell you why," he teases her, that smile that never truly leaves his face still there and aimed at her, "but I trust you, and I trust your magic. And more importantly, milady," he's lowered his voice now as he steps closer to her so that he's barely an inch away and fuck, it makes her head spin, "I trust your judgement. Especially when it comes to that boy." He's so close to her that she can almost feel his lips moving against her skin and it throws her off balance enough that when he brushes against her cheek with a soft, barely there kiss before moving away to say one last goodbye to his son he renders her completely speechless.

And damn if her heart doesn't skip.

---

Roland does manage to get three bedtime stories before she convinces him to go to sleep. Has to swear up and down that yes, he can come and wake her the next morning for breakfast if she's not already up, and that no, she won't mind before he even considers lying down under his blankets.

"'M not sleepy," Roland says mid yawn as she coaxes him further into his pillows.

Regina bites back a smile, and continues to tuck him now that she's not sat against the headboard with him cuddled into her side. She didn't realise how much she'd missed this, missed the adamant declarations of not need to go to sleep while tired eyes slip closed until she's murmuring "I know you're not," and stroking her fingers through his curls.

Bedtimes with Henry started to get cut short after he turned seven and declared it 'uncool' to need his mom to read him a story. They became a bit tense when he found out just before he turned nine that he was adopted and for the first time her little prince was going through something she couldn't fix, something she didn't know how to make better. They all but disappeared when he got the book and all of the sudden she wasn't 'mom' anymore but evil, someone - hell, something to be hated, to escape from.

She blinks away the memories of one of the worst sections of her long life in favour of focussing on the little boy in front of her; she can break down behind closed doors, but she can't let Roland see her like that. He's still fighting sleep, pushing back at the tempting comfort of his bed so she utilises a trick she'd picked up during Henry's bout of colic, one that worked without fail at any age. Shifting so she is once again sat against the headboard, this time curved slightly to lean over him, she alternates between scratching her nails softly against his scalp and running her index finger, feather light above his brows, smoothing down the small frown Roland has from fighting drifting off.

He falls asleep pretty quickly after that but she doesn't move straight away. Keeps running her fingers through his curls long after his grip on her slackens, and even then she doesn't move until she starts to feel her body cramping up from being sat there for so long. Muscle memory from avoiding waking a different little boy kicks in as she eases herself off of the bed, double checks his monkey is safely under the blankets with him and that said blankets are tucked firmly around the both of them before she slips out of the bedroom.

Tuck is sitting on one of the overstuffed sofas by the fireplace, one of the younger members of Robin's Merry Men sat with him as the Friar appears to be teaching him to read. It doesn't quite startle her, but she hadn't heard them return so it makes her pause awkwardly for a moment, briefly cursing the fact that to save space, the Merry Men had claimed a suit. The bedroom going to Roland and Robin with the rest of them happily camping out in the large sitting area. Arthur gives a little wave when he spots her as Tuck merely nods at her, offers a small smile before tapping the pages open on Arthur's knees. He rolls his eyes at her before returning to whatever passage it is Tuck's currently using for his lesson.

Regina doesn't say anything as she leaves, but the quiet acceptance from at least two more of Robin's men leaves her feeling lighter somehow. It's disconcerting in a way. She spends the short walk to her own suit agonising over it so much that she's not aware of the tingling that's no longer pins and needles until her right arm fails to cooperate with shutting her door. She glares at the heavy wood, resorts to slamming it shut with magic before moving to her the bedchambers off of the main room. Regina yanks her hair down awkwardly with one semi-functional hand, counting her blessings that she'd worn a comfortable dress for her day with Roland because she can feel her wrist start to twitch and knows she'd never be able to get changed so she just lays herself down and hopes it'll be over quickly.

She's never really been that lucky.

---

Regina wakes up the next morning more tired than when she passed out after the seizure. She'd woken up constantly, never really sleeping in more than fits and bursts. Either jerking herself awake mid-nightmare, or waking up clammy and confused as to why. She barely had the energy to change into sleepwear and move under a mound of blankets the first time it happened, more drained than she realised. It also seems that Roland had indeed woken before her, if the small weight she can feel against her knees is anything to go by. Shifting around Regina peeks over the covers to see him whispering softly to the stuffed monkey she'd given him, back against her legs so he doesn't see her watching.

Biting her lip she watches for a little longer, before moving to sit up and catching his attention.

"Hi! Monkey and me was gonna wake you but he said you looked really sleepy, so we jus' played instead," Roland says, nodding down to where his monkey is held firmly on his lap.

"Well thank you, Roland. And thank you too, Monkey," she remembers how important it was to Henry when she acknowledged his toys, "you were right, I was very sleepy." Roland grins at her, clearly pleased he made the right choice, though she would have happily woken at the crack of dawn if he'd asked. Stretching her left arm out, slow and careful as she thinks of last night Regina glances outside to try and gage the weather. But it's still early and the sun is barely over the horizon; the grey tint to the sky may well fade.

"Well," she says, turning back to where Roland is now wriggling his way up the bed to plant himself on the empty side of her bed, tucked firmly against her and showing his feet - minus his shoes thankfully - under the covers. "What do you want today?"

He frowns, "Is today when papa comes home?"

"Hopefully," she really doesn't want to say yes on the off chance Robin is delayed another day and risk disappointing the boy but she's desperately hoping he's back by dinner. The frown becomes more pronounced on his little face and she swears her heart clenches the exact same way it used to when she'd inevitably let Henry down over something or other. Regina squeezes him to her for a moment as she wracks her brain, desperate to think of a way to cheer him up. "Hey, how about we make papa a present for when he does get back?"

"Like what?"

And isn't that just a brilliant question, one she hadn't quite worked out. "Well," she flounders, "what do you think he'd like?"

Roland pulls a face, confers with his monkey and rubs the back of his neck. Identical in manner to his father, he clearly looks like his mother, but mannerisms are all that of Robin Hood. "I dunno!" He doesn't sound disheartened to her relief, just a little stumped and trying to think of the perfect welcome home present.

"He really liked the bracelet you made him," she prompts.

"He likes it when I make him things," he giggles and tilts his head to grin up at her, "papa says I make stuff the best."

"He is absolutely right," Regina bops him on the nose, feeling a grin take residence on her own face when it makes him scrunch his face a tad. Her gut tightens when she thinks of the boxes she has kept safe in her attic and under her bed, filled to bursting with things Henry had made her. School projects and home made ones alike. And it hurts, it always will when she thinks of her darling little prince, to remember that neither they nor her town exist anymore but it does start to form an idea.

"Right, are you ready for the day already, Roland?" He nods, adds a Monkey is too, as she climbs out of the bed and spots his boots, haphazardly strewn by her rug with a small cape and some mittens. "Ok, I'm going to get dressed really quickly, then we're going to go work on papa's surprise."

"How quick?"

There's a little quirk in his smile that lets her in on what he wants, so she rolls her eyes in jest, waves a hand and feels her skin clean itself, makeup apply perfectly though not as dark as she normally would in this realm, and clothing swap. Roland is gleefully clapping his hands and laughing by the time the smoke clears to show her in leather pants, a lavish but loose fitting silk tunic, the collar encrusted with gemstone detailing, hair in a relatively simple braided bun and her knee high flat riding boots. The pants may be stupidly tight but it is one of her more comfortable outfits here and she'd learnt fairly early on with her own son that comfort and ease were key in running around after a toddler all day.

"Was that quick enough for you, my good Sir?" When Roland pretends to think about it, Regina snatches him up around the waist to curl him up into the air, delighting in the happy shrieks coming from his small frame, before setting herself down with Roland across her lap to tickle him.

"Yes, YES, it was… you was quick enough, I swears!" There are tears in his eyes, red splotches on his cheeks and across his face is smile that Regina is positive would blind the stars.

"Alright then, shall we go and get some breakfast so we can work on your present for papa?"

---

Breakfast is eaten from a shared plate with Roland firmly in her lap as he shyly answers Snow's questions, causing Regina to melt just a little because Robin commented once that Roland nearly always took his time warming up to other people. (Women in particular simply because he'd only ever really spent a significant amount of time with Mulan before they moved into the castle.) But he never hesitated with approaching Regina. Even in her 'scary clothes' that she'd started to tone down on days where she knew she'd be seeing the littlest of the Merry Men. His father had been quick to assure her he didn't mind in the slightest, was happy with the any bond that gave his son cause to smile and become much more talkative around people other than his father and favourite uncles.

She picks at her part of the plate, the smaller half that houses mostly fruit versus Roland's sausages, eggs, and toast. Granny tuts at her as she moves past them to place a bread basket on the buffet style table they're sitting in front of. Glares pointedly at the crusted shells of the rolls but all Regina can hear, has heard since she pretty much started eating solid food, is mother sighing in that 'what did I do to deserve a daughter as awful as you, Regina?' way of hers. Can hear the snide little comments she had started hearing at far too young an age. For goodness' sake, Regina! Don't even think about having another sweet, or you can't possibly want desert, can you dear? Not after eating all that surely, or and now what will you wear? This dress fit you last month, I shudder to think of what you have putting your waistline through, young lady.

There's part of her that knows it's wrong, that knows the passive aggressive, and sometimes just outright aggressive comments from Cora were never true; she's always been of a slight build, but by Storybrooke's medical standards she'd more than likely be classed as underweight, probably has been for the last good few years at that. But growing up here had drilled into her head that all she had was her appearance, first with Cora and then with the King, because she'd grown up with him and his side glances at her plate too. When he cared to look… outside of her wifely duties that is.

It wouldn't do to have a Queen not worthy of being shown off.

So she doesn't take a roll for herself, she does grab a soft, honey glazed one when she spots Roland staring at it. Cuts it in half, slathers it with butter and marmalade all while telling herself it definitely does not smell amazing, and that fruit is better for her waistline than carbs. She tries not to hate herself for believing it.

She arranges for Tuck to take Roland at lunch and for a few hours after so she can put in some time researching before taking Roland's hand and leading him back towards her room, making a couple of short pit stops along the way. The weather has decided to remain chilly and the world outside has a muted grey haze, and Regina knows they'll both be more comfortable in a room with furnishings to sit on and a hearth to keep warm by. Tuck offers up their suite but she refuses, gives the excuse that it is currently serving as shared living accommodation for thirteen men, and while only four of them including Roland remain she wouldn't want to take over their space in case they want some time alone. Really it's that she is quite ready to be seen the way she is with Roland by everyone. Especially if Robin isn't there. And that is something she resolutely does not think about.

Once they get back to her rooms, she tells Roland to wait for a moment while she pushes back some of the furniture around her low coffee table to make room for them on the rug. Even goes as far to throw all available cushions on top of it for them to sit on before she uses magic to clear the trinkets on the mahogany away. Regina waves Roland over before she goes about setting out some of the paint she'd managed to find in a dusty, stale old store room and the loose sheets of parchment found in another. She uses magic to get a couple of jars of water, a handful of paintbrushes, and after noticing that the paints are a bit lacklustre decides to create a larger selection too.

Roland drops down onto one of the larger pillows, Monkey placed safely next to him, and starts to twitch with excitement of the unknown. "I need you to pick out three colours for me, alright?" He points to green, pink and dark purple. Grabbing a sheet of parchment, Regina dollops a few drops of each colour, layering them in the middle before folding the paper in half, pressing down firmly and rubbing her hand over the page.

When she peels it open and starts to add black details to the symmetrical smush of colour, Roland gasps in delight. "I's a butterfly!" After that they set to work, Roland doing most of it but demanding her help with turning his splodges into all manner of insects to be cut out later and stuck to a longer piece of parchment where she helps him write welcome home, papa before dropping him at lunch with Tuck and disappearing before Granny or Snow can berate her about food.

---

The men aren't back after supper. Both Tuck and Regina agree to let Roland stay awake on the off chance they'll show up but the boy barely makes it an extra half an hour before she carries him to bed. He wakes up as she tucks him in, indignant at being moved and pouting over Robin not being there. It takes longer than the night before to ease him back into sleep, she has to remind him several times that Robin said it might be longer than overnight, but that he'd told them he would be back by the fifth day. She has Roland count out three more days to work out when he said he would back, and mentally threatens anyone and everyone if she is made out to be a liar about this.

Eventually Regina coaxes him back into slumber by promising that Tuck is right outside his room and will be all night, and when Roland asks about where she'll be, she pinkie-swears that she'll be in her rooms all night long so he knows exactly where to find her if he needs her.

"Maybe -" a yawn crack his jaw nearly, it's so powerful, "maybe papa will be here in the morning."

"Maybe."

He isn't.

Nor is he there that night, or the fourth and by the time dinner of the fifth day arrives with no sign of them her entire being is a constant mess of fear, nerves and acidic bubbling that turns her stomach to even think of food. Roland has been sleeping in her room since half way through the third night. He'd come barrelling into her rooms in the middle of the night, jerking her out of her already fitful sleep, tears damp on his little face as he stuttered out that he wanted to sleep in her bed while his papa was gone.

Muscle memory from Henry's childhood nightmares kicked in the second she woke enough to recognise Roland standing at her bedside, his monkey trailing upside down slightly behind him while he rubbed a fist over his bloodshot eyes. A bit of magic ensures that Tuck will find a note saying where Roland is when he wakes before she's reaching for him, picking him up under his armpits and bundling him under the covers with her, hugging him fiercely once he's finished making himself comfortable: all but buried into her chest. She murmurs softly to him, cradling his head with one hand and rubbing his back to try and gentle the sobs wracking his tiny body.

"You're ok, Roland, it'll be ok," she presses a kiss to his hair and shushes him, rocks back and forth with words still flowing as he starts to calm, "I've got you, honey, I won't let go."

---

The morning of the seventh day has Regina waking to the now familiar weight of Roland curled into her and the feeling that they're being watched. It doesn't register right away - she's exhausted, it's been years since she spent so much time keeping a four year old occupied. And she'd never done it while said four year old was missing his father, nor while having at least one muscle spasm or seizure a day.

The stress of not knowing what has happened to Robin is getting to her too, yesterday alone she had felt the muscles in her right leg and right shoulder constantly twitching (they haven't been getting worse, not really, but they have become more frequent). Up until dinner time where she managed to get herself alone while Roland ate with Tuck, Arthur and the other two Merry Men left behind and she collapsed on the icy, hard flagstone of her bathroom as her whole body gave out, seizing so hard she had a moment of genuine fear that she would crack her skull open on the floor. Roland had wandered in shortly after, and though she played it off as a headache the fact that she got them both ready for bed instead of climbing in later once he was long asleep, and had struggled to keep herself present for the story didn't do much to convince him.

Blinking her eyes open she guesses it must be a while to sunrise from the little of the sky she can see reflected in a glass pane on the mantle, wonders idly what would be watching her sleep. She almost drifts back off before she comes to a bit more and stiffens.

"It's me," he barely even whispers, anything else too loud, too jarring in the silence of the world at this hour.

Regina inclines her head slightly and spots him, looking a little worse for wear and dead on his feet, but still in one piece. "Robin… wha - where?" Her voice is rough from sleep and trying not to wake the child sprawled across her.

Robin hushes her, "I'll tell you at a more decent hour, I just had to see you both."

She blinks again, not convinced he's truly there with how she can feel sleep still clinging, determined, to the edges of her mind, "Time's it?"

He scrubs a hand over his face and she notes, for some reason, that he hasn't trimmed his beard in the last few days. "Um, a few hours after midnight I believe," he's still whispering. Though now she can tell it's not just fear of waking Roland (the boy can sleep through almost anything), it is his own brand of exhausted. Later she'll blame the state of her mental and physical health but she moves back ever so slightly, expertly shushes Roland when he whimpers and stirs, but she gets them firmly back from the middle of the bed to her side and gestures with her head for Robin to get in.

"Oh, no Regina, I couldn't…"

"Get in the damn bed, Hood," she's too fucking worn out for chivalry tonight, "we've prob'ly both ha' jus' as bad a week, so get in the bed, get some sleep, cuddle your son and I'll yell at you in the mo'ning." Her eyes are already shut again by the time she finishes slurring her promise to scold him in the morning. Well, later morning… at a more humane hour.

She hears a whisper of fabric being shifted about, soft thuds of boots dropping to the floor and blinks herself awake long enough to see him climbing in on Roland's other side in a threadbare white shirt that covers him decently, soft looking pants and a bemused smile on his face.

"Goodnight Regina," he squeezes one of the hands she has wrapped around Roland and presses a kiss to the part of his son's forehead that's visible with how he's ended up.

"G'night."

---

She wakes to hushed giggles and whispering and for a moment she's confused. She's sure Henry didn't have a nightmare last night and managed to sleep through in his new 'big boy bed'. It take a few seconds before clarity sets in and she remembers that Henry hasn't woke up to sleep in her bed in years, and that there's no hope of that happening again now. But Regina is still more asleep than awake so that knowledge hits a little softer than usual, and as such confusion still dances around the edges of last night.

It is Roland's soft "Papa, we can't wake up Regina," when they both freeze as she whimpers and burrows further into her pillow that brings everything back into focus.

There's quiet for a few seconds, both of them clearly waiting to see if she's asleep still instead of just stubbornly ignoring the day, before Robin speaks, "It's alright, son, we'll let her sleep as long as she wants."

There's a muffled hum from Roland and she hears a whisper of cotton against silk, before a sharp movement from the small source of warmth against her hips that she now recognises as Roland halts it. "No! We hafta be here when she wakes up, 'kay?"

"You don't think we should let her sleep in peace?"

"Umm," Robin's question has clearly thrown the boy, "yes, but we'll just hafta be estra quiet. Regina don't sleep much," he whispers, like he's imparting her deepest darkest secret. If he only knew that she's pretty sure the adults of the castle, at least those who tolerate or oddly (it's always going to be so odd to her) care for her have, by now, all noticed the increasingly dark smudges under eyes that makeup just won't cover anymore. "But she'll wanna see us, me 'cause I'm her best friend an' you 'cause she was worried."

"And you know she was worried how, my boy?" There's a teasing lilt in Robin's voice, one she recognises from hearing him ask the boy if he really has room for sweats when he didn't finish his greens. She used the same tone with Henry too. It's probably universal to parents.

"Papa," he whispers despairingly, "I'm her bestest friend, that means I know stuff."

"Ahh," that teasing lilt is still there, warm with affection for his son as Robin drops his voice to a whisper too, "how silly of me, obviously you know things like that."

"She said she knows you were all coming home, but I sawed her when I was 'uposed to be sleepin' and she was always lookin' out the window… or bein' mad that you was taking so long to get back." He drags out the word long, she can picture the stern little look he is more than likely giving Robin right now. Hands comically placed on his hips, eyes narrowed under furrowed brows and a frown with matching pout to boot. "You was gone a really, really long time, papa."

"I know," Robin says, soft and anguished over being away from his son longer than planned. And she knows there will be a reason. And it will be logical and completely valid. But she's still mad at him because Roland's right; she was worried. Had to stop herself from going out there to drag him back by his ear more than once, and the fact that he's dug his way under her skin only to turn around and make her wonder if he's even alive infuriates her. Regina's more than a little bit tempted to kill him herself now that she knows he's safe.

"I wanted to come back as soon as I'd left, you know that, right?" There's a pause where Roland must nod, "We had to travel a little bit further than we planned, that's all, and do you remember that really big storm the other night?"

"Yeah…"

She almost lets them know she's awake when she hears the slight tremor in Roland's voice, remembers the storm that woke them on the fifth night. After getting Roland to agree to close his eyes and try, just try to sleep sweetheart; it'll make the time go faster. After spending a fair amount of time in the living quarters trying to muffle a seizure and collapsing into bed beyond exhausted they'd awoke a few hours later to the sky flashing and loud, angry crashes that had terrified Roland.

"I know they're scary, my boy, but you were with Regina, yes? She kept you safe, and warm, and dry." Another pause while he waits for some sort of acknowledgement from his son, "Well, because of how far we had to go to hunt it took us longer to get back here, and when the storm hit we were so close to the castle that we'd decided not to camp. We wanted to get back to our families as soon as possible. But… that meant when it started raining we had to find shelter really quickly, because the tents would have flooded if we'd set them up where we were."

Roland huffs, clearly he understands as much as he can with how Robin's explained himself and having lived in a forest for most of his life already, bar the time they spent in the Dark Castle, but he's still obviously put out.

"Hey, put that bottom lip away; I'm fine and so are your uncles. And we are all very, very sorry that we made you wait for so long."

When she feels the bed shift again and Roland lets out a hastily muffled peal of giggles, she opens her eyes to see Robin using his lengthened beard to tickle him. When Robin pulls back he catches her watching them, smile still present but wary. He must remember her promise to yell at him in the morning.

"Regina," Roland gives a delighted yelp when he turns to see why his father stopped, throws himself down onto the mattress again and smacks a kiss to her cheek, "papa's home! He came back, like you said he would!"

She bops his nose with her finger and feels a grin forming across her face to match the sunshine bright one on his. "I can see that," she says as her smile lessens ever so slightly as she sits up to look at Robin properly in the morning light. He has a few scratches and bruises dotted around on the bits of skin she can see, but other than that looks no worse than he did last night, if slightly more rested. "And did you tell him that he needs to be home quicker next time?"

"Uh-huh," Roland bounces on his knees, "he promised to find a way to let me know if it 'appens again."

"Roland," Robin calls the boy's attention back to him, "your Uncle John is probably awake by now, why don't you go and show him that wonderful art work of yours?" His eyes shift to Regina as he speaks, he's going to let her yell at him she realises. He's getting Roland out of the room so she can get everything that's built up in the last four days out of her system and away from innocent bystanders.

Roland hesitates, looks back and forth between them both with his lip between his teeth. "I'm sure he would love to see it, honey," she prompts gently when he still looks loathe to leave despite them being able to tell how much he wants to see Little John, "we're only going to talk about boring grown up things here, anyway." It works. Roland pulls a face as soon as the term 'grown up things' is said, often declares his hatred of all things grown up whenever one of them has to pass up time with him to go to a council meeting.

He scrambles off of the bed, skips to where his clothes for today are neatly laid over her vanity and rushes back to let Robin dress him while he hops from one foot to the other. Robin smothers curses with a laugh as he tries to button his tunic, "Alright, just one moment Roland, then you can go I swear!"

As soon as he's done he hurries over to the chaise where one of the Lockley's had placed the painting after it was apparently shown to Robin while she still slept. Seeing him hesitate by the door to her living quarters and the way out, Robin sighs and goes to lead him through to other room. She can hear them talking as she stands from the bed. Roland seems to be getting a promise that as soon as they're done being all boring and grown up they'll come fetch him.

Regina notices how Robin doesn't say when they'll be done, which is probably for the best as now that Roland is gone she can feel herself getting more worked up. Her arms are tight around her waist by the time Robin gets back, she's not pacing just yet but she can feel the nervous tick in her legs begging her to move, to burn off some of the anxious energy starting to build.

He doesn't speak, just stands a few feet from the bed and her, part of her is grateful he's kept his distance as well as making it clear he's only that far away for her benefit. It makes it seem ok to angry at him in a weird way. Like he understands why when she herself is barely touching the surface.

"Don't you ever, ever do that again," she says, her voice low and scratchy with anger, "You don't… you don't get to do that again. He was terrified, Robin! Five days, you said it would only be five days a-at the worst. You were gone for almost a week!" Regina is vaguely aware that she's getting louder with each word, getting closer and closer to screaming at him and Robin just stands there and lets her.

And fuck, that infuriates her too even though she knows if he fought back she'd be just mad.

"Where the hell were you? Where the fuck did you go that kept you away from him?" Robin stays quiet but there's a look in his eyes that she doesn't quite understand, it's not really familiar but she brushes it aside in favour of finally letting some energy out. She makes a sharp gesture with one arm and the chair in front of her vanity splinters with a resounding crack. It's so loud she flinches but he doesn't even blink. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to have him ask when you were coming home, coming back to us- him, when I had no idea if you even would? FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, SAY SOMETHING."

"Regina…" he sighs again, lifts a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and for one glorious second she thinks he might scream back at her, might validate her anger because she thinks she's being a little bit irrational. She just doesn't care. "I wanted to get word to you, to both of you, that I was safe the second we realised it was going to be more than two days. But you know why we couldn't; if Zelena's spies had spotted a carrier pigeon we would have been sitting ducks."

And she knows that, of course she does, it had been one of her points as to why they might not be hearing word from their scouting parties months ago. She'd even grudgingly suggested they avoid using them while her sister's flea ridden pests roam the sky. Logically she knows they had no way to let anyone know they were coming back, had just been a bit delayed by elements out of their control. But she needs to get this out. Because that bubbly, acidic burning in her stomach had spent the last few days eating away at her while the voice in her head, Cora's voice, laughed at her for being so worried over someone who would never, could never look twice at her.

"I don't care," she wraps her arms back around her waist when that unfamiliar look on his face solidifies. "I don't fucking care, you have a child. You don't get be unreachable for days on end, ok? You just don't. And yes, you're fine, and the stupid storm was the main reason but you do not get to volunteer for jobs that take you away from him. Not when you know you can't let us know if you aren't coming back to us." She is so far into her ranting that she doesn't even notice the slip, doesn't notice that she's not solely enraged on Roland's behalf anymore but Robin definitely does.

"What was meant to happen if you weren't? What was I supposed to tell him if you came back hurt… or if you didn't come back at all?" She's moving now, shifting back and forth, agitated again when she thinks of how on a different day, a different mission, that could well be what happens. The thought makes her sick to her stomach and panic stick in her lungs. Because Roland cannot lose his father, she won't allow it, but she's only just starting to see that maybe she can't lose him either. "What am I meant to tell him when something does happen?"

"Hey," all of the sudden hands are cupping her face, gently forcing her wild eyes to look into his calm ones, "what do you mean 'when something happens'? I'm not going anywhere without a fight, milady."

Regina shoves at his chest, her waning anger rearing its head again, "You might not have a choice!" She shoves at him again, incensed when he merely moves with it, hands sliding down to her shoulders and lets her take her fear and frustration out on him but doesn't allow her the momentum to hurt either one of them, "You don't get to act so careless about things like this when YOU STILL HAVE YOUR SON!" This time she pounds the sides of her fists against his chest. This time he lets her. Lets her rage and scream and hit him until she runs out of steam. "Don't you dare leave him, don't you fucking dare, Hood. I swear to God, if you ever do something like this again, I'll kill you mysel-mmph."

He kisses her. Uses the hands curled around her biceps to haul her the remaining few inches in and slams his mouth against hers. And for a moment she forgets why she was yelling at him. Her breath hitches and her hands scrabble against the worn cotton of his shirt as she starts to kiss him back. When he pulls back with a low gasp Regina blinks, mildly surprised to notice she'd closed her eyes in the first place.

"Forgive me, milady, I probably shouldn't have done that; you're rather stunning when you're yelling at me."

She doesn't give him another chance to say more because her world has just slotted back into place. The acid burning through her stomach lining has ceased, her heart is racing for an entirely different reason and she might finally be scratching just below the surface of why she was so upset in the first place. So she doesn't give him time to say anything else, she uses the grip on his shirt to haul herself onto tip toes, crashes their mouths back together and puts everything she has into it.

Regina's not even aware that they've been moving until her knees hit the back of her bed and cause her to stumble, an embarrassing squeak slips past her lips as Robin grabs the small of her back to stop her falling. He pulls away slightly, squeezes her hips when she keeps her eyes shut.

"Nothing is going to happen that you don't want…" he says when she stays quiet, both of them breathing heavily despite only having kissed.

"I know," she barely even whispers it, nods against where her forehead rests against his chin.

"Ok," he takes a deep breath, "you say stop, and we stop." That makes her eyes open, slow, confused as she glances up at him. "I believe we've already established that I pay attention, milady. Especially to you."

She should hate it, should hate that he is openly admitting to watching her. She spent her younger years and marriage with her skin constantly crawling, always aware that someone was watching her and hating every second. Her time as the Evil Queen was always a show; people were going to look anyway, so why not give them something to see? Control everything they saw, only show them what she wanted to. But there is something about him, about this thief, that she finds makes her glad he watches her because with him it's not all about looking for his own satisfaction. Robin is looking to learn about her and she's spent every day since Daniel died, barring moments with Henry before he learnt about her past, keeping who she is buried; that way no one can use it against her.

And if he does look for his own satisfaction, Regina is starting to work out that she doesn't mind. She might not admit it out loud just yet, but even she can't ignore the part of herself that whispers you like it when he makes no effort to hide how he looks at her. To hide when he lets his eyes trail up and down her body.

"What if I don't want to stop?" She asks, swallowing when his tongue comes out to wet his lips. Robin doesn't speak, just grins and squeezes her hips again before diving back in.

This time when she stumbles back they do land on the bed, Robin managing to catch his weight on forearms either side of her head with a slightly bewildered look on his face. Biting her lip to try and keep from laughing (she fails miserably but for the life of her she doesn't care because it just makes his smile brighter), Regina reaches up to tug him back down, fingers of one hand weaving into his hair while the other rests against his neck and tugs until he's pressed against her fully. Hips to chest. And fuck does she love it; the weight of him pushing her further into the mattress. Something she always used to hate is another thing she's slowly learning to enjoy if it's with him.

She whimpers into him when she feels his tongue tease along the seam of her lips, pulls him in deeper, teeth biting and pulling at other as they start to fumble with the other's clothing. It's a struggle because neither one seems willing to part for breath, let alone long enough to remove cotton from skin but they manage.

Regina rips herself away with a gasp long enough to yank the shirt she's worked up to his shoulders up and off, tossing it to the side to search for later, when she moves to kiss him again with hands already greedy with the amount of sleep warmed skin in display. Robin holds himself just out of reach, grinning even wider when she makes a displeased noise. Though when he dips down to press open mouthed, sucking kisses to her neck it quickly morphs into a moan.

Her hands fly up to keep him at her pulse point after a particularly toe curling bite but Robin weaves their fingers together and presses them into the mattress either side of her shoulders. His rough whispered, "I intend to savour you, Regina," has her squeezing her thighs together, already slick between them and dying for something, anything that could give an element of release. He slowly makes his way down to the low neckline of her nightgown, stopping every few inches to lick, suck, bite at sections of skin that leave her gasping.

Robin squeezes her hands once, clearly meaning her to keep them to herself for now, before he lets go and she feels fingers trailing up the backs of her bare calves, feather light and a promise of what's to come, before they hit the hem of her dress just above her knees and continue to push it up. Inch by agonising inch until soft calloused palms are wrapping around her ribs, thumbs stroke firmly under her breasts and all bets are off. How he expects her to keep her hands away from him she doesn't know, and she tried so she guesses that'll have to be enough for him but she can feel the soft worn fabric of his pants against her bare thighs and that just won't do.

She fumbles in her quest to untie them when Robin chooses that moment to run his tongue between her breasts, grazing his teeth along the underside of the one not being stroked by his thumb. "Fuck," her brain short circuits for a second or two when she thinks how wonderful that talented mouth would feel if he used it significantly lower. She can feel her heart pound against her rib cage in anticipation; she's positive he can too by the smile she can feel.

When he chuckles into her chest she manages to pull herself back together, because she might well be as good as naked with him, but she's not letting him getting the last word. Deciding that it's her turn to taunt him, Regina forces her hands to cooperate until the ties holding his pants up are sagging and slips her hand into them. Finds him warm, and hard, and wanting, wraps her hand around him and squeezes firmly as she drags her hand up, down. He stutters out a groan and several curses that has her grinning, oddly proud that her hand on his dick can do that to him. She works his trousers down over his ass, focussing on keeping the fingers around his cock moving, making sure to keep it slow enough to drive him crazy and forcing herself to not get too distracted thinking of how she's going to have that inside her soon.

After a moment of hissing curses and praises alike into her skin Robin bats her hand away. Her protests die before they leave her lips when she realises he's busy kicking the remaining article of clothing off and suddenly he's naked in front of her and she's staring. He's handsome enough as it is with clothes that without makes him almost painfully good looking, and it's really not fair.

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment," he says, making her aware she said at least part of that out loud. "But trust me on this, love… you are a marvel." Robin shifts to push her nightgown up over her breasts (eyes lingering and causing butterflies to break out in her stomach when he bites his lip), and onto the floor. He wastes no time, dropping back to lick at a pebbled nipple while his hand rubs over the other.

She's on fire. They've barely even started and Regina is on fire, lighting up wherever he touches her and positively burning in the places he doesn't. And god, she thinks might actually combust when she finally feels him slip into her and she can't fucking wait. Her hands move to his back, nails digging in every time one of her nipples is taken firmly between his teeth. She lets them explore for a moment, running along the ridges of muscles that are constantly rippling as he moves, but when he starts to kiss and lick his way down her to navel it is all she can do cling to him and spread her legs a little wider so he can rest between them more comfortably.

Shit, if this is going where she thinks it's going (it's definitely going where she thinks it is going) it's all going to be over very soon indeed. She's only ever been eaten out by one person, and even then it took Maleficent weeks to talk her into letting her try, promising she'd love it and that if by some chance she didn't, they'd never do it again. But she had loved it, had been eager for every brief moment where they were able to be alone during their time together because then she might be able to feel pleasure with someone in her bed, rather than just pain and humiliation. But it has been years, a lifetime, since she's had someone like that and Robin is tugging her underwear down her legs and resting his forehead just below her belly button and oh God, he's actually going to do this.

"Oh God," she's only partially aware that she said that out loud, Robin still hasn't moved beyond her panty line, seems to be bracing himself as he kisses just above where she actually needs him to.

"I told you I planned on savouring you," he looks up then, pupils blown black before he winks, pushes her thighs further apart and ducks down to lick between, eyes locked onto hers the whole fucking time.

"Fuck," she was right, his tongue is wonderful on her cunt, and when he moves from entrance to clit, spending a few seconds laving over it firm and sure, before moving back she cries out.

He takes his time, goes down on her like he's dying of thirst and she's an oasis in the middle of the desert, pays attention to what makes her gasp versus what makes her shout. By the time he's wrapped his mouth around her clit and slips two fingers into her, angled upwards and finding that spot that makes stars erupt behind her eyes she's given up trying to stay quiet, given up caring if she is loud. Because she never wants this to end, never wants her nerve endings to stop tingling in a good way for once. And she is so fucking close that when she starts hearing herself form words that babble she really couldn't care less.

"O-oh god, Robin, don't aah don't stop," and bless everything about him he doesn't. She has one hand tangled in his hair, keeping his face pressed to her clit and the other is tugging at her own. She's a mess and for once Regina doesn't care.

"Shiiit," when he changes from hard, slow licks that match the pace his fingers have set alternating between massaging that magical spot and fucking sharply into her to a firm suck she loses the meagre amount of control she still had left. Her hips buck into him and he loops one arm over a thigh to stop her from unintentionally ripping herself away from him. "Shit, fuck I'm… R-robin I'm clo-" he somehow grazes his teeth over her clit in time with a deep, hard suck as his fingers press firm inside her and the world explodes.

The fire that's been burning slowly through her since he first kissed her flares, rushes through her veins and sets everything alight, makes everything brighter, warmer and more vibrant as she flies apart.

By the time she comes back to herself (she thinks she might well have blacked out for a minute), Robin is hovering over her on one arm, fingers brushing her damp hair back with a smug half grin on his face.

"S-savoured… enough?" she's panting, and dear lord that really should embarrass her, that is not how a lady presents herself, Regina but Cora's voice is silenced tonight by the faint ringing in her ears and the look on Robin's face.

His eyes, if it is even possible, darken further and he drops his gaze to rake it over her slowly, pausing at her hips, breasts and lips before settling back at her own as he lets out a small, rumbling laugh. "I don't think I'll ever savour you enough; you are exquisite milady."

Biting her lip, Regina feels herself blush for the first time this morning, and pulls him back down enough to kiss him, all teeth and tongue and moaning when she can taste herself on him. They shift ever so slightly mid-kiss, Robin swapping the arm he's balanced on and Regina bending her legs slightly to accommodate him. He gives her another moment to say enough, to tell him she's done but all she does is move to guide him in, no resistance to speak of.

Robin drops his head to her clavicle, breathes sharp and deep through his nose as she presses a kiss to his brow, both letting out a shaky breath when their hips come back into contact. "Fuck," he's panting too now, "you feel amazing…" he trails off as he pulls back slightly, groaning, and pushes back in. When Regina inhales sharply, back arching just so and lifting one leg slightly to plant her foot flat on the bed he takes it as a sign to move.

And move he does. He doesn't quite pound into her, keeps it steady, but each stroke is hard, and after the first few he's found that magic angle that causes him to push up against that spot again. Regina didn't expect to come again tonight, normally only ever comes once, if she does at all. But then she's crying out and clinging to him tighter and thinks that maybe, for the first time since she was young and giddy sneaking around with Mal behind the Kings back, she just might.

"There?"

She tries to answer, she really does but all that comes out is a thready sounding uh-huh so she nods, frantic and desperate to keep him there.

"Ok," Robin grunts, redoubling his efforts as he moves one hand down her body, stopping to clutch at her every few inches until he reaches between them, fingers finding her clit and circling firmly.

Regina has a brief moment where she thinks she should really be mortified by the noise, scream she just made, but as long as Robin keeps touching her, keeps fucking her she can't find it in her to care if the whole damn kingdom hears them. The angle is good, so fucking good, but it isn't perfect, so she bends her other leg and wraps it around his hips, hiking it higher until she sees stars and whimpers, and uses the foot planted on her bed to move her hips to meet his, hands clutching at his sides.

"Oh Gods," he moans before crashing their mouths together again in a messy, biting kiss, neither one quite managing to keep it up between powerful thrusts that never miss, stopping to muffle moans and cries in between fervent kisses.

"Are, shite, are you…" he trails off, goes back to mapping the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

But she's already nodding, whimpering into his mouth. "Yes," she gasps at a particularly deep thrust, "fuuhuuck."

Robin nods against her, mumbles something against her lips she doesn't quite catch and presses firmer against her clit, alters his hips just so and she's flying. Back arching further into him, mouth tearing away in a scream that breaks and goes silent as every single cell comes alive.

She comes back down to earth to the sound of Robin cursing, his hips stuttering before pressing in once more and spilling inside her. She pets at his back, runs a hand through sweaty, matted hair and presses kisses to his neck and jaw as he too, slowly joins her back on the ground.

Regina frowns as Robin edges back slightly and slips out of her, a trickle of come following, before he moves to the left and collapses next to her, both breathing heavily. Her heart is thundering in her rib cage still, her legs feel shaky and unstable and she honestly doesn't know if she'll be able to move for a while, let alone how she'll be expected to walk all day.

"That," her voices sticks and she clears her throat, tries again, "that was…"

Robin's hand reaches for hers, winds their fingers together and twitches like he was trying to squeeze and gave up part way through. "Yeah," he agrees, knowing full well what she was trying to say.

"We um… we should move," at the discouraging noise he makes she tries to think of why they should at all, "Roland… Roland's waiting for us."

Robin groans and leavers himself into a sitting position. For a second she thinks he's working up to getting out of bed but all he does is grab the covers still shoved down the foot of the bed from when they woke up (it felt like so long since she woke to both the Locksley men whispering in her bed) and flop back down, boneless, as he pulls them up over them.

"Sleep first," he slurs, "Then we find Roland."

It sounds like such a marvellous idea that she doesn't even protest, just lets him arrange them under the blanket until he's spooned up behind her, arm wrapped loose around her waist with her hands clutching at it as she drifts back off.

---

She wakes up first this time. The sun is higher in the sky but only slightly; she gathers that they have been asleep for just over an hour. Blinking back the fuzziness of sleep, Regina shifts, pulling a face at the tackiness she can feel between her legs and on the sheets beneath her; dried sweat clings to her and she is desperate need of both a bath and relieving herself.

Moving her head to the side she sees that they've moved slightly in their sleep. She's now on her stomach but still pressed firmly into Robin, who remains on his side but tilted forwards, like he followed her when she rolled over. Regina bites her lip, content for the first time in what feels like forever despite how grimy she feels, despite the constant ache of missing Henry, despite the hell that she's sure is coming with her sister.

If it weren't for the pressing need in her bladder she'd probably stay there until he wakes too. As it is she moves out from under his arm slowly, freezing when he stirs and only breathing again once he settles, this time on his back. Her spine pops pleasantly as she stretches before padding to her private washroom, neglecting clothes as she daydreams about how a warm bath will feel.

She relieves herself before moving to fill and heat the large bath tub using magic, adding a few oils for scent but deciding against bubbles. It's as she moves to put the stoppers back that her hand twitches hard enough that she notices; she's been so distracted that Regina can't even be sure if that was the first one, or if she'd missed it just like she has clearly missed the tell-tale tingles that normally precede it.

Biting her lip, she glances to where the cabinet housing her toiletries sits, objectively it's not far at all, only several feet but she can feel the other tremors now; her legs aren't trembling from sex anymore. It's not that bad yet, you can put the bottles back and have time to sit down. Biting her lip she gathers the bottles quickly, but as she takes her second wobbly step a harder tremor seizes her and her hands fumble, glass shatters on the stone floor and there's a confused call of her name from the other room.

Her hands are completely useless now, she manages to step back from the glass scattered around but when she tries to grip the edge of the tub to ease her way down to the floor her hands won't cooperate and she falls, thudding to ground with a sharp whimper when her knees buckle.

Angry tears build up behind her eyes as she grits her teeth, seething when she feels herself slip sideways, no longer able to hold herself up.

Weak, it isn't even just Cora's voice this time, every part of her hates that she has to live like this right now. Burns with rage that there's no end in sight. Despises herself for letting it happen in the first fucking place.

She's so busy berating herself that she never hears Robin call her name when she hits the ground, loud and concerned. Doesn't even realise he's out of bed until he's crouching in front of her, pants on but not tied, shirtless and eyes wide with worry as he keeps her from hitting the ground further. Part of her is glad he's here, especially when he moves to sit beside her, gently moving her so that she's all but in his lap, back against his chest as he holds her through it. Never once saying a word. Another part, the larger one is mortified. She should have pulled his shirt on when she passed it; she'd still be having a seizure but she wouldn't be naked. She wouldn't be as vulnerable.

Robin waits until he has a hold of her and fumbles around behind them and produces a robe that he drapes across her front; her arms still jerking and twitching too much to try and put it on properly. She still hates that he saw her like that, but something in her heart clenches, makes her lean further into him because he covered her up. He made sure she couldn't hurt herself and then made sure she wasn't as uncomfortable and it makes her traitorous heart skip a beat or two.

They stay there, sat on cold stone floor until she stops shaking, and then they stay sitting in silence for a little while longer. Robin had started running a soothing hand up and down one of her arms part way through and he doesn't let up even now it's over. It is just another small, miniscule thing he has done to show he cares, at least in some manner, and it baffles her.

Confuses and terrifies her because she cannot understand it. Cannot wrap her head around why or even how someone could come to care for her; she's the Evil Queen, rotten to the core. She doesn't deserve it and as she's never truly had it in the first place, not from her parents (Daddy loved her, he did, but he never stopped anyone hurting her), nor from her husband, so she has no idea how to handle it. No one has really cared for her since Daniel, and even with him, sweet and loving though he was, they were children sneaking around. Moments where he could hold her for longer than a handful of minutes were few and far between.

Mal cared. They both did in their own way, but neither of them was able to give everything. Regina being barely twenty-one at the time, married to the King and unknowing of how to show or even accept affection, Maleficent still battling with her own revenge and anger at King Stephan. Sometimes she thinks they were doomed from the start, but even with how their friendship ended Regina can never bring herself to regret it.

"Are you alright?" he asks gently, bringing her attention back to him and where they're curled together against her now no doubt cold bath.

"I'm fine," she says, brushes aside his concern because as much as she hates it, this is nothing new anymore. She aches and she will have bruises from the fall, but she's still breathing (no matter how hard that gets sometimes) so that has to count for something.

Robin huffs, "That's not what I meant," he gestures to her legs, "you're bleeding."

And so she is, she must not have been far enough away from the glass before her legs gave out. Consequently they are now dotted with cuts, some tiny, insignificant while others ooze blood and have pieces of glass that glitter as the light hits them.

"Oh," now she knows they're there, she can feel the sting of them. Robin moves her from his lap to the side, turns his back to rummage through cabinets while she pulls the robe on properly and ties it. He doesn't turn back until she's covered, something she's grateful for, and when he does he uses a folded up towel to sweep the glass into a pile before dropping to sit in front of her, a small washcloth and tweezers beside him. He reaches over to dampen the washcloth in the tub before gently picking up her legs and places them in his lap.

It's not until he picks up the tweezers and starts to gently remove the broken glass embedded into her flesh, quick and with a practiced hand that Regina even realises what he had brought them over for in the first place.

"Robin… you don't need to do that," she starts, hesitant to break the silence as he works, "I can heal them."

"No, not right now you can't, and don't try to tell me you can," he adds, looking up when she opens her mouth to argue with a look she hasn't seen before on his face. It's not anger, more frustration, but for the life of her she can't work out why, can't work out what she's done to put it there. "You're always drained after a seizure, Regina, and magic tires you as well, do you really think it's a good idea to use it right after one?"

He's right, magic always comes with a price, and most of the time (unless it is a truly dark or complex spell) the price is energy. Healing magic is even more draining than other forms, especially when the caster isn't trained specifically in that medium.

"You still don't need t-"

"Yes, I do. I do need to do this, Regina," he sighs, wipes away blood from a cluster of nicks to see if there's any glass still there and squares his jaw, "I don't know how else to help you when they happen, I don't know what caused them and I am not asking you to tell me, but I am asking you to let me do this."

He looks up at her then, that unfamiliar look on face more prominent and she finds herself nodding, whispering "ok," and staying quiet as he works. When all the glass is gone from her skin, he moves to clear the pile on the floor making sure to get every splinter as she reheats the bath water.

Robin helps her with the robe and getting into the tub, one arm supporting hers and the other around her back, and when she doesn't let go once she's sat down in the water he kicks off his pants and slips in behind her. Neither says a word but he presses a kiss into her shoulder blade and she leans back until she's resting against him.

She sees it when she moves to wrap his arms around her. The same lion tattoo she'd seen at twenty years old from the window of a tavern.

"Regina, what is it?" he asks when she freezes against him.

She very nearly uses magic to disappear and damn the price, but when he lifts her chin to look at him, blue eyes piercing into hers she pushes it back. Running was easier before. When she had no idea who the man with the lion tattoo was. But she knows him now, knows what kind of man he is. Knows how much he adores his little boy. Knows enough about him to be scared of staying and everything going up in flames like always… but she also knows she's more scared of running away than she is of what could go wrong.

She should run, she should tell him this is a mistake and that she had a moment of weakness. Should push him and his son away before they get hurt like everyone around her always does, but she is weak when it comes to them. Has been since the moment she dived between Roland and that flying monkey and he smiled shyly at her as she handed him a new toy.

Regina has only ever been powerless like that when it came to Henry, but it's starting to be clear that she will also always be the same way when it comes to Robin and his son. And it makes her stomach clench with nerves, but she's terrified of what she could become without them. They helped keep her head above water without Henry; losing them when he's meant to be her soulmate might be what drags her back under.

"Nothing, don't worry." Lifting his arm Regina brushes a kiss over the lion.

---

They don't tell anyone about the change in their relationship, but they don't go out of their way to hide it either. Regina doesn't even have to stumble her way through a full explanation of why she doesn't feel comfortable telling everyone before he's agreeing.

"I don't see why we need to say anything anyway, milady," he says once he understands what she's rambling about, "this is our business, not theirs. No one needs to know, if you'd prefer."

"I don't want you to think I'm trying to hide anything… that I'm…" she sighs, struggling to find the right wording.

Robin chuckles, takes her hands in his and presses a kiss to her brow, "Regina, there's a difference between outright hiding whatever we are, and not explicitly saying anything. I don't think you're ashamed of this, if that's where that beautiful head of yours is going, nor do I begrudge you the privacy of not having everyone in the castle know about our personal lives. How about this," he says when she still looks unsure, "we don't tell anyone, but we don't keep everything behind closed doors?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I wouldn't kiss you up against a wall in full view of anyone," he teases "but I might kiss you on the cheek, for example, when we have to go our separate ways." Winking, he wraps an arm around her waist and tugs her forward to brush his lips against her cheek and across to her ear, "would that be agreeable to you, Your Majesty?"

"Yes," she says as she tries to keep her voice from wavering, but he's cheating breathing into her ear like that when he knows by now how much she loves it.

---

Roland doesn't even bat an eye the first time they kiss in front of him. Rolls his eyes in a near perfect imitation of Regina and looks so put upon that both she and Robin have to bite back laughs as he huffs at them "You've always been like that, papa, even before all the yucky stuff."

Snow keeps grinning at her, never actually asks what is happening between the two of them, but it never stops her watching them like a hawk. Even when David tries to guide her attention away from the couple.

Granny takes one look at them a few days after their talk and says "It's about damn time," before she goes back to helping Roland pick out some fruit for the picnic basket they're supposed to be packing.

And it's nice. Being with someone like that. It still terrifies her, probably always will, and she hasn't told Robin about Tinkerbelle and pixie dust and prophecies. But it feels good to be wanted by someone, and not just because she's a trophy to be had and shown off, but because he values time spent with her and wants to know anything she is willing to share with him. It's not just about sex with Robin (though admittedly that is fantastic and the best she has ever had), because half the time Roland is squirming his way between them in bed, waking them up with elbows and knees digging into unwanted places as he mutters that "you hafta share Regina, papa, she was my friend first."

The quiet moments are wonderful but it doesn't last. Zelena rears her green head again and they're all sitting around another table in yet another council meeting trying to work out how to stop her. They make plans to head towards Rumplestiltskin's castle in a week. Enough time to organise themselves and plan it around Zelena's time away from the Dark Castle, but not too long so as to lose whatever advantage this might give them. Snow's only seven months pregnant so they still have time; not a lot, but enough.

Regina spends every waking minute she has that isn't with Roland or his father up to her elbows in research. She barely sleeps and doesn't really eat at all, it's only when Robin talks her into it that she'll even sit down and take a moment for herself. He cheats and uses his adorable child to get her to agree to something as small as a nap with him knowing she can never really say no to Roland.

The night before they leave for Rumple's castle finds her in the same spot she's been every night, hunched over a spell book that weighs a ridiculous amount, trying to work out what spell it is Zelena plans to cast using the Charming's baby. There are far too many spells that require a new-born and each one is more horrific than the last. Even at her worst she'd never even thought to look in these books, she'd never even really gone after Emma as a baby, had only wanted to stop them putting her in the wardrobe and creating a saviour. She very much doubts she would have gone ahead with killing her, she probably would just made sure they were all separated but under the curse. (It could only be broken when she turned twenty-eight, and if the saviour was cursed herself then she'd never age.)

The thought that the wicked bitch is planning on using a baby for something is raising every red flag possible and the panic that's been there but manageable for months starts to bubble back up at alarming rates. Because if Zelena is willing to do something that one of these spells requires, then what else is she willing to do?

She's exhausted, emotionally and physically, and every time she has to tell them that she has no idea what to do, what Zelena is planning or how to stop her she feels a stabbing twist of guilt. Because this is all her fault. And she has to fix it. She might have her moments with the two idiots but she's finally on equal footing with them in terms of where they stand, and she's already caused them to lose one child; she will not let them lose another.

Robin had come to check on her a few hours ago, brought a plate of food they both know she'll forget to eat and pressed a kiss to her hair when he failed to get her to take a break. She might not have listened to him when he said staying up all night buried in books she's already read wouldn't help, but her back is aching something fierce and he'd left after securing a promise that she'd move to one of the overstuffed couches in the same library he'd found her in a million years ago.

It may have taken her close to three hours to do it but she moves to the plush, musty sofa with a pile of books. She's barely sat down, taking a moment to just breathe with her in her hands when she notices them trembling ever so slightly. Blinking she takes note that her head is pounding along with them and she has a brief moment of confusion. Wonders if this is because she hasn't been eating properly or because she has somehow missed the usual warning signals before her whole body starts to shake. It takes a few seconds for Regina to realise it's going to be bad before she loses all control, slips from the couch with how violently her body is shaking and the world goes black.

When she comes to it's to Robin hovering over her, face drawn with worry, her body tight with pain and she's so confused as to what's happened that she tears up. Robin hushes her, soothes her gently with assurances that she's in her own bed and that he brought her here, that he'd been coming to check on her when she fell. His voice is tight and he keeps reaching out to touch her like he's making sure she's still there.

She wants to ask what happened, how long she was unconscious for and she can see even in her addled mind that he has questions too, but she is so very tired.

"Sleep love," he says as he climbs into bed beside her, opens his arms for her to roll into and rests their foreheads together. "This mess will still be here later."

---

As soon as she returns from following Snow and Charming to find Glinda she seeks him out. He's with his men in one of the castles common rooms, sat around laughing at something Much has said when he spots her and falls silent, frowning at the expression she's sure is there for all to see.

"Snow and David want to gather everyone in the great hall, they have an announcement about the Wicked Witch." She speaks to all of them, but she never takes her eyes off of Robin, relief surging through her when he suggests the Merry Men help gather everyone and they all move to do just that.

"What happened?" He asks the moment they're alone.

"We need Emma to defeat Zelena," she takes a shaky breath as she begins to feel overwhelmed with how fast everything is now progressing.

"Emma's in a different realm…"

"Yes," she whispers as she watches him, see the moment he realises what they mean to do.

"Which can't be reached by anything other than the Dark Curse," he runs a hand roughly over his jaw, clearly agitated but with what part she doesn't know. "And are you ok with doing that?"

Oh, that is not what she was expecting. He's reaching for her, pulling her into a hug as she processes what he just said. "I won't be the one casting it. I can't."

"Not that I want you casting something that dark again, but may I ask why?"

"The price of the curse is the heart of the thing you love most," she forces herself to say it, waits for him to pulls away from her when he works out how she cast it the first time but all he does is hug her tighter. "And, well the thing I love most isn't somewhere I can get to right now… and even if I could I wouldn't do it."

"Because it's Henry."

"Because it's Henry."

"Good," he says "I don't ever want you to be in that position again, I never want you to feel something like that is your only option." He kisses her hair again and sighs against her, "How is it going to get cast then, who's going to pay the price?"

She's not in the slightest bit shocked that he's asking that because despite his years living in a forest Robin is an extremely smart man, smarter than most of the morons she's been forced to cohabitate with over the last year.

"Snow's going to cast it… using David's heart."

---

Everything was going to plan, but then David is lying dead on the floor, Zelena has thrown yet another curveball and Snow is begging her to split her heart in half. It works, thank God it works, and she smiles for half a second before what Zelena has done hits her. She turns to watch the clouds of green and purple mix together, stomach rolling as one thought is at the centre of her mind.

We won't remember each other.