It's the laughter that gets your attention.
You turn around and see Regina, dressed down for the weekend in a pair of fitted khaki slacks and a white cashmere sweater you gawked at upon learning the price tag when you accidentally spilled beer on her. The brunette is tickling Roland's sides as they sit on the edge of one of the benches facing the pier – your bench. Roland is on her lap, tiny fists lost in the silken tresses that have been allowed to grow since the curse broke. His dimples spoke of a boy well loved by the woman who held him and his eyes, every focused on their Queen, twinkled with the heart big enough to overlook many grievous truths and continue living.
He looks over her shoulder and straight into your eyes, his smile growing impossibly wider. Raising your index finger to your lips, you grin as he imperceptibly nods and continues to lose himself in the soft, smooth hair on Regina's head.
You were supposed to meet Killian and his new girl for coffee at Granny's but you simply cannot help but drift toward them. As you near them, a warm breeze languidly travels past you. You catch a scent you have come to familiarize yourself with in the past few months – apples, cinnamon, and a pinch of sandalwood.
"And that, my prince, is how the swan and her princess beat the naughty witch," Regina said, smacking kisses all over the little boy's chipmunk cheeks.
"Did they live happily ev' aft'?" he giggles.
At this point, you now stand directly behind the pair with a soaring steady sound of thudding in your chest cavity. You abruptly bend down and encircle your arms around them, eliciting a startled squeak from the typically composed Mayor and a delightful laugh from Roland.
"Did they, 'gina?" you breathily whisper into the skin below her ear. You smirk at the resulting shiver despite the warm weather.
"'ma!" Roland exclaims, successfully disentangling himself from your embrace and leaving Regina's lap.
"Hey there, my handsome boy," you coo, picking him up in your strong arms. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck, his hands clasped behind it.
"Emma, promise me. Promise me you will take care of Roland and Regina for me."
Robin was lain across the town square ground, sweat beading on his forehead and rolling down the sides. He had been fool enough to attempt to attack Zelena on his own without forewarning to the others. By the time you had reached him, there had already been an alarming amount of blood pooling around him from the wound inflicted.
"Robin, I -"
Any pressure you apply does nothing to alleviate the flow. If anything, it appeared to worsen it.
"Pr – promise mee," he gasps, blood sputtering forth.
"Regina only just got you, her happy ending. You can't leave her," you trail off as your throat closes up, a tightening in your chest and gut as visual playbacks of how the brunette had been screwed over one too many a time came to the forefront of your mind.
He shakes his head and smiles at you, pearly whites stained in red.
"Y-you," he struggles to say, coming out in a rough broken tone that spoke of impending end.
Soulful blue eyes stare into you, the light eventually leaving, and you are left clutching the body of a man you neither knew nor fully appreciated.
You know Regina knows you are reminiscing to that day because the joy on her face has drastically lessened and a frown has settled upon her Morenafeatures. You clutch Roland tighter to you, protectively cupping the back of his head and pressing your face into the little bundle that had become a part of your family long ago before any promises had been made.
Roland had asked you to speak at his papa's funeral. With a tear streaked but determined face, he had marched up to you with pride and requested that you say something – anything. Sitting at Granny's, the deafening silence that had settled upon your entrance became even more claustrophobic. Perhaps you had remained silent too long or perhaps it was the likely dumbfounded look on your face but his chin wrinkled. That cute cleft chin of his wrinkled and…
His bottom lip quivered.
Your heart shattered.
Squatting down to be eye level with him, you grab him and pull him flush against your body. The desperate wails that ensued, the tight fisting of your leather jacket, and the dampness that seeped through your flannel shirt had you shutting your eyes tight – shutting the world out in an attempt to not do what your first instinct told you to do.
Run.
Instead, you held him tighter to you in a caring cocoon you hoped was enough to comfort the boy until Regina came. In that instant, it did not matter that Zelena was no more. It did not matter that Storybrooke was safe.
It did not matter because in your arms lay a weeping boy who had seen too much death occur around him – the same boy who had wholeheartedly loved Regina like the mother he never had, the one who brought peace to her at a time when you and Henry did not; could not.
You always hold him the way you held him then. It is the way you hold him now and the knowing glint in chocolate brown orbs tell you that you do not fool anyone. Taking a seat beside her, you remove one arm from Roland and reach for Regina's hand. The warmth you find, allowing and seeking for more, has your gut coiling and clenching.
Your eyes flutter shut. Inhaling deeply, mindful of the now silent child in your arms, you allow yourself to revisit the moment you knew you could not – would not leave behind anyone who mattered.
Standing before the people of Storybrooke, dressed in black, and before the casket that held Robin's body set your nerves on end. You had been told that Regina had not been asked to speak and it worried you that you might say the wrong thing. Forgoing either a memorized speech or cue cards, you open your mouth to address the people but find yourself mute.
Looking at them, you realize that they did not know Robin either. Focusing on Roland whose silent tears, curled fists, and high chin – all reminiscent of Regina – portrayed a boy who was forced to grow up too soon too quickly.
Taking a calming breath, you begin.
"I didn't know Robin. I couldn't – between us trying to find ways to protect this town and our loved ones, trying to make our other half happy…"
You gaze upon the woman who rigidly stands behind Roland with her hands on his shoulders, gripping him with what you can tell is a strength that assured them both that they will move past this and find their happy ending, even if it were the last thing they did.
"But I saw the effect he had. He was well-respected, idolized, and loved. He cared for many, giving himself past his capabilities without asking for anything in return. He was protective, ensuring that his people, his comrades, those he held close to him would always be safe. He was courageous and bold, laying his life down for this town – for his son, Roland, and for Regina, whom he made smile and laugh when she had every reason not to. He gave happiness to those around him and hope to those desperate."
Your vision is blurry and you wipe away at your cheeks, mascara coming away like last week's scab.
"Many of you have your happy endings in the form of one or two or many things. Robin was the happy ending to more than one person – as a brother, a comrade, a father, a lover."
A cry erupts at this. Regina has her hand cupped around her mouth, eyes dark with sorrow, and the other is bound around herself. Roland worries his lip to the point of bleeding but he stands tall. Henry has one hand on his shoulder and another comforting his mom.
"Despite this, he remained a simple man with one heartfelt desire – to be there for his boy and Regina."
Feeling choked, you know you will not be able to continue any longer.
"Let us mourn today the loss of a great man with an even greater heart but celebrate his life like it were our own."
A miniscule palm gently touches your cheekbone, breaking you free from your reverie.
"'ma, you 'kay?"
You nod, pressing your lips to his cool forehead and holding it there for a while. Regina's fingers clasp yours closer and you are never more certain that this is your home, your anchor.
"Hennie!" Roland squeals, wiggling away from you and running toward the older boy who approached from the same direction you did.
You and Regina chuckle, pressing your foreheads together, bathed in deep oranges of the setting sun.
"I love you, Emma."
"I love you, 'gina," you murmur against the lips that peck yours.
In the distance, you hear the once groggy boy erupt in another fit of raucous laughter as Henry swings him above his head, making airplane noises.
"Mommy! Mama! Help me!" Roland screams gleefully.
You grin and Regina sighs contentedly.
"Let's go home," you say, getting to your feet and tugging your wife to her feet.
You may have neither pixie dust declaring you both to be fated soul mates nor be each other's old world True Love…
But you are each other's beginning and end – the only happily ev' aft'.