Ricochet

She couldn't breath. Voices sounded like they were at the end of a long tunnel. Her peripheral vision was shaded by black.

She was pregnant.

Her nails dug into her palms, leaving a manicured imprint. This wasn't how it was planned. This hadn't been how things were supposed to happen. When she sat, piecing together the page that held their destiny, this is not what she imagined.

"Regina," Emma's hand on her shoulder shook her from the shock, "Why don't you take a walk?" Emma knew; she understood.

It was only now that she realized how her hands were shaking. Maybe it was violent rage, knowing what she could do if they were in Storybrooke. Or maybe it was the nausea she felt at knowing her sister had finally won? Zelena won. She wanted to ruin Regina's chance at love, and she had won.

Regina turned toward the door, no replies were passed. The satisfaction on Zelena's face was the last blow Regina could take before her eyes began to sting.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Her hand grazed the doorway; she needed traction. She needed something tangible to anchor her in the moment. Without it, she would give into her rage. She felt something else, though. It wasn't rational. It wasn't fair, but she felt hurt. The man with the lion tattoo, her soul mate was irrevocably tied to her sister. It wasn't his fault, she knew, but the hurt within her wouldn't listen to reason.

She stayed close to the wall as she made her way down the hall. Her fingers ran against the cool paint of the wall. She wasn't sure if the wall was ice cold or if her hands had run dry. Maybe it was a combination.

She heard his steps before she heard his voice. Her thoughts ran mad, reaching for a response devoid of her emotions. The farther she walked from the doorway, the quicker his steps became.

"Regina, wait."

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

It echoed in her mind. Her daze became consumed by it.

She turned to him, but her stare went through him. She couldn't take him in the way she wished. She couldn't hold him the way that she wanted. All she could do was focus enough to manage the rage that she felt. It wasn't his fault. This was her sister.

He reached for her hands; she needed space, but he needed her.

"Robin, I can't do this right now."

"Regina, I just want to," he stopped. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, actually. It was habit, running after her. They had spent months apart, longing for a moment like this. Now, here they are. Her hands were in his, but disconnect stole the place of the uniqueness they typically felt at each other's touch. Their love was the sacred treasure, and Zelena was the thief in the night.

"I need to walk. I need to get some air." She forced her words out, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She didn't want him to think her need for space was because of him.

He held tightly to her though; as much as she needed space, he needed her. She knew that.

When she met his eyes, she recognized his face. This wasn't the face of a man; it was the face of a boy pleading for help. She had seen Henry look much the same way when he was young. Robin was begging her not to go. What he didn't realize, though, was that she didn't have a choice. What she felt, how she felt in this moment would wrap its hands around Zelena until the breath left her body and the light fell from her eyes. Robin couldn't understand, but she and the Queen were one in the same. Her control was running out, reaching the end of its supply.

"There's a bar a few blocks from here. We saw it on the way in. Give me a head start?" She did her best to even her words, but she didn't wait for his reply. With a firm squeeze of his hands, she let him go.

It hit her though. The moment felt so familiar. She thought of the last brush of his fingers against hers as he crossed the town line. She thought of how she had ripped their page into pieces, giving up on him as part of her happy ending. They thought they would never see one another again, but here he was. He was standing in front of her, and she was turning to walk away. Even if it was for air, even if she just needed a moment, she was turning away from him without telling him what he needed to know.

Her feet failed her. Her voice trembled at the mercy of her tears. They needed time. They needed space to figure all of this out, but she was sure of one thing.

"Robin?" He was still standing where she left him, always steady like the sun. She didn't turn to him; she didn't' go him. Her eyes were glued to the floor, but her heart reached for him in a way that she couldn't physically do in the moment.

I love you.

It rolled from her mouth as if she had been created to say it. It was what he needed to hear, and it was what she needed to say. Again, they felt the pull of needing one another. They felt the familiar tension of hope stringing them together. This was not over. It was very far from over. There were so many things in between them, but they weren't over either.

Her eyes closed, tears finding their way down her face. The rage still stood, and she left to find sanctuary in a hole of a place she had never been. She sought silence in the middle of a crowded bar.

When he found her, she was just another dejected custodian of a barstool. Many had come before her, tears falling into the drink as she searched the bottom for answers.

His hand went to her out of habit, a surge flying through him at the reality of her being here with him. How had his dreams so quickly become nightmares, he wondered? They sat together in silence for a while, him joining her on her morose crusade for answers.

"Regina, I'm so sorry," was all he could muster.

If she had felt any remaining rage at Zelena, he had broken it down and made it look menial with his words. The boyish look still lingered on his face.

"No," she took his hand, "This isn't your fault. This was Zelena. She did this to us. She wanted to hurt me, and she went after you to do it. She won."

"She hasn't won. Don't say that." His voice rose more than she was accustomed to hearing. He was upset. He had a right to be. He settled back into his seat, asking unneeded forgiveness from her with his eyes. He wanted to reach for her, but he didn't.

"Regina, I know that this will all take time. I know that things are not what we thought they would be. I," he paused, "thought I would never see you again."

There it was again. He was needlessly apologizing.

"I know," was all she could offer him though. He was familiar, his scent and his touch, but this uneasiness was foreign. She felt like someone who had taken a long journey, only to return home and find that it didn't quite feel the same. They needed time.

"I need to know," he started.

She knew he wanted to ask her. Before he could form the words, she knew. When he began, waves washed over her. Sadness, guilt, and hurt, but somewhere deep within her there were sparks of hope.

"I need to know if you can find it within you to see this child as mine. I want to be with you, Regina. I love you; I never stopped, but this child," he couldn't finish, but he didn't have to.

Her eyes met him. Regina knew that he believed he already knew the answer to his question. He should know. They may have built their love, but it was built around their sons. Their children would always come first, and Zelena couldn't change that.

Her thumb pressed into his palm; her face softened.

"I love you, completely," she told him. "And, this baby is part of you."

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to reach out, to assure him that everything would be all right, but neither of them moved. Though the end was clear, the means to finding it were not. Her stubborn will and his devotion to loving her would help them fight the darkness, but this moment was still steeped in it no matter how hard they were fighting.

When they walked up the stairs to the apartment, Regina felt anger rising within her as they reached the door, but she stopped them. She pushed herself into his embrace, and his arms around her allowed her the first real breath she had taken since the news. She had been waiting to exhale, waiting to know that his arms would always feel the same and that his love would always belong to her. She felt it, so did he. Permanence.

The way Zelena's eyes went to their interconnected hands made Robin fidget, but Regina was fearless. She hadn't won, and she never would. If there was one thing that Regina knew, it was love, and that was something that Zelena would likely never understand.