Let's celebrate the news from today with an update, shall we?
Dear Regina,
I woke up this morning... on Tuesday, the 6th. Again. Looks like this repeating day wasn't a one-time thing. But I've been thinking, what if this is how we're brought together again?
You say time is still moving for you, but it seems to have stopped for me. This means our timelines have to converge at some point, don't they? It'll take a year, but it will happen. I don't know much about magic, but I think whatever you did to that chalice broke whatever was keeping us apart.
I've already started marking the 363 days we have left, so I don't lose track of our time while I'm stuck in this loop. If something changes, I will let you know, but for once, I'm hoping things stay just as they are, at least this way I can be sure I'll be able to hold you in my arms again at last.
I miss you,
-Robin.
She shows the letter to the Dragon as soon as she finishes reading it. Runs down the street to his shop and slams the paper on the counter, catching her breath as he curiously reads Robin's words.
And then, the stupid old man just says, "Ah. Of course."
"What the hell do you mean 'Of course'?" she snaps at him. "You knew this would happen?!"
"No. I did not," he replies, perfectly calm as he gently hands the letter back to her. "But Mr. Hood poses an interesting theory. There are a couple of flaws, but overall, I happen to believe he is right."
"Would you stop talking in riddles for once and just tell me what's going on?!" she barks, and takes a deep breath when she feels Henry's hand squeeze hers in warning.
"Sorry," she says with a sigh, "I just need to know."
The Dragon smiles fondly at her, nods his head, and then explains.
"He says what you did to the chalice has caused this. I do not agree with that. I believe it wasn't your attack on that cup that stopped his timeline. It was the nature of your magic."
"I didn't— I just stopped it, there was no time traveling spell in there."
"I'm not talking about spells, I'm talking about you, my dear."
She throws him a quizzical, somewhat exasperated look, waiting impatiently for him to continue.
"What kept blocking your time traveling spells wasn't some random curse like we thought," he finally says. "It was you, Regina. You suppressing your darkness was the barrier, and when you accepted both sides of yourself, during your battle with the wretched magic in that cup, that barrier was destroyed."
Regina sighs, shaking her head as she tries to wrap her mind around this whole thing, and asks the one question that's been plaguing her since she read Robin's letter.
"We still won't try the new spells we found, because I draw the line at human sacrifice. But the ones we attempted before... does this mean those will work now?"
The Dragon's face grows sad, then, and he shakes his head at her. Out of the corner of her eye, Regina sees Henry's shoulders slump where he stands beside her, but his hand remains strong in its grip, reassuring her despite the bad news.
"I'm afraid traveling to the future is too unpredictable for even magic to be successful at it. You can try these spells again, if you'd like, but I believe they'll do more harm than good."
"How so?" asks Henry, and the man's gaze shifts to him as he answers.
"The future is unlimited. There are infinite alternatives as to what can happen an hour from now, let alone a year. Technically, the spells would work in taking you to the future now that the barrier is gone, but there is no way to pinpoint exactly which future they would take you to. So far, we only know of one future in which your Robin is alive. One future. Out of infinite possibilities."
"So... odds are we wouldn't get to Robin, but to some other reality," Henry says slowly, dejectedly, and Regina feels a tear fall down her cheek as comprehension dawns on her, as well.
The Dragon is nodding solemnly, his hands clasped over his stomach, hidden by the wide sleeves of his kimono. "Thanks to your light and dark magic converging, the future he's in is now tied to this particular version of the present, so regardless of what happens with us today, tomorrow, or the days that follow, this timeline will take you to him. I know that having to wait for so long is not what you wanted, but at least this way you can be sure that you will find him when the time is right."
She grabs the stationary set and writes everything down when she gets home. Tries to keep as detailed an explanation as possible for Robin to read, and sends the letter along without dawdling. She can write him another letter later, but right now, she needs him to know everything.
His response is there less than an hour later, and she sighs as she opens the folded piece of paper and reads.
Dear Regina,
This is all fantastic news! I know you wish the spells worked and we could be together right now. I do, too, but the Dragon is right. If the risk of trying them is you ending up in some other future where I'm truly gone forever, I'd much rather we both wait until the universe brings us back together. After Isaac's trick with the magic quill, and all this nonsense about that crystal, I feel we've had enough alternate realities to last us a lifetime.
Cheer up, my love. It's only a year. I'd wait that and more if it meant having you with me again. I miss you terribly. So much so, that sometimes I fear the weight of it will crush me. But there's real hope now, a light at the end of the tunnel, as Emma would say. We both have something to look forward to. We can make it, can't we?
I love you so much. And I am so proud of you. I can't wait to see you again. Hold you. Whisper in your ear all I feel for you... You've no idea how happy I am that this is all now a solid possibility. I've never doubted you, Regina, not once, and you know this, but now that it's a reality, I can't help but feel elated to know for certain that we'll find each other once more.
I do have one request, though.
We are now sure that it'll be a full year before we meet again, and as I said, I will gladly wait for you, but I don't want my children to spend an entire year without you.
I know I can't convince you to go back to Storybrooke until it's time for us to meet, but please, promise me you'll visit them often. I'm aware that you've made sure they're taken care of while you're away, and I trust you. I'm sure that my men, and Snow and David and Granny, are all doing a good job, but... well, they're not you, Regina. We're a family, I don't want my son and daughter to miss you and Henry for that long. I can't be there yet, but they should still have at least one of their parents around.
What will you tell everyone? Do they know about what's happening?
Just 363 days to go.
All my love,
Robin.
Regina stares at the letter as tears fall down her cheeks.
One of their parents...
We're a family...
She's always thought of them as such, but the fact that Robin feels the same way has her heart doing giddy little somersaults as she takes in the words. There's the little hiccup that carries her sister's name, but somehow it doesn't feel as big of a deal anymore. Zelena is still the baby's mother, sure, but... she's Robin's daughter, too. Her daughter.
Little Robin is currently with the Charmings and Granny, with the Merry Men making daily visits to check on her, bringing Roland along so he can spend time with his baby sister. Regina has ordered everyone to keep an eye on Zelena during her visitations, make sure she doesn't try anything beyond a simple lullaby and bottle feed. She feels a twinge of guilt over the precautions, but they are necessary. The fact that she and her sister have found a way to forgive each other, doesn't mean Zelena won't revert to her old self. Regina should know. She's been on that same redemption path for years now. Change doesn't happen overnight.
And there's also that slight hint of resentment she still carries over what Zelena did to Robin. Over how his daughter was conceived.
She's been trying to let go of the anger she feels towards her sister for what she did, but some wounds just aren't meant to heal that way, and Regina cannot bring herself to fully trust someone who was capable of such a despicable act. Sister or not.
So yes, she has Zelena watched, has the baby stay with people she trusts and who can keep an eye on her sister's actions. Granny Lucas may be old, but she has spark, is handy with a crossbow, and has a wolf for a granddaughter. And the Charmings, well... everyone loves the Charmings. The entire town will rally to defend baby Robin from Zelena if Snow, David and/or Emma so wish it.
Robin is right, though. Now that they know how long it'll be until he's back, Regina can't just stay here and leave the kids with the others. She has to go back.
But going back means she won't be able to communicate with Robin. She hasn't dared take the book out of the apartment, too scared it'll shatter whatever connection it is it has to Robin's timeline, and then they won't be able to talk to each other at all. So the leatherbound tales have remained on the desk since she got here, sending and receiving the letters that keep that tiny flame of hope alive inside her.
She can't bring it along. She has to leave it.
The realization that she won't have Robin's words to carry her through the day has her almost hyperventilating. She's gotten so used to telling him about her comings and goings, to hearing about his, that the prospect of leaving the quiet comfort of his prose makes her jittery.
A flash of orange catches her eye from the side, and she turns to look at the rose he sent her, sitting cheerfully next to the white and red lily. The sight calm her, lends serenity to her chaotic mind.
She'll go. But only for a couple of days, until she figures out a better solution. She'll be back.
Regina grabs a pen, and with a deep sigh, she begins to write.
Dear Robin,
You're right, we can't leave the children alone for that long. I'll figure out a schedule and let you know what it is, and I'll head back to Storybrooke for the weekend, to check on the kids and maybe get you some more pictures.
I wanted to say, I'm sorry. I should've found a way to bring you back, or at the very least realized it was my own stupid ego keeping us apart and shattered that barrier sooner, so that the wait had started earlier... I don't know, but I should've done something, and I failed. Now you have to wait a whole year before you can see your children again and it's my fault.
I promise you, though, that I'll make sure they are safe and well looked after until your return. I will visit them as often as possible, and tell them stories about you, keep you present in their lives until you get here.
I was thinking... it might be best not to tell Roland you're coming back yet. I know it's awful, to let him continue being sad over his papa when there's no real reason to, but I just... I don't want to get his hopes up in case something goes wrong. It's your decision, though, so I will gladly tell him everything if you want me to.
Henry is very excited to see you again. He started a calendar for us, as well, marking down the days.
It's going to be a long year, but it's worth it. You're worth it to me, Robin.
Love,
Regina.
She doesn't stay to watch the letter go (she usually does, likes the reassuring image of the book on that desk, the space between its pages unburdened when her letter disappears), and instead darts to her room to start packing.
"Something wrong, mom?" Henry asks when he catches her throwing clothes into a suitcase.
"We're going home after school tomorrow," she informs him, "pack your stuff."
"But mom—"
"Robin wants me to check on Roland and the baby. If it's going to be a year before we find him, I can't just leave the children, I have to be there, I have to see them."
"Okay, but why tomorrow?" he looks confused, his brow set in a frown that reminds her startlingly of Neal.
"Because it's Friday," she answers. "We'll come back Sunday so that you're back on time for school."
"Oh. So we're not, like, moving back, then?"
She sighs, shakes her head as she lets a red blouse fall from her hands and onto the bed.
"I can't leave for a whole year. Our letters, we— I need to know that he's there."
"And writing to him is how you know," Henry finishes for her, nodding in understanding. Not for the first time, Regina wonders what she did to deserve him.
"Yeah," is all she says in return, a small smile on her lips as she holds her son's hand.
It's past eleven when she finds Robin's answering letter. Henry is already asleep in his room, after having exhausted the subject of time travel with her. He'd been curious to know how it all works, how it applies to their current situation, and Regina wishes she could have given him more concise answers, but she doesn't have them. Still, she'd tried to be as thorough as possible, explained as much as she could to him, and had felt a little bit of pride when her son had looked at her in awe as she spoke.
She's alone in bed now, with her and Henry's suitcases already packed and sitting neatly by the bedroom door, ready for their road trip tomorrow.
The paper crinkles a bit as she settles in to read.
Dear Regina,
I've said this a lot already, but I will say it again, I'll say it however many times it takes for you to believe it: This is not your fault.
You're not the reason I have to wait a year before I see my children. In fact, you're actually the reason I'll get to see them again at all... Regina, you've single-handedly defended your son from evil magic, embraced who you are, and broken the barrier keeping us apart. It's because of you, and your courage, and your resilient, wonderful heart, that I get to return to you. And once I do, I'm never letting go again.
I'm so relieved to know you're spending the weekend in Storybrooke. I'll miss your letters for the next few days, but I won't stop writing. When you get back, you'll have a lot to read.
I love you for wanting to protect my son, and I understand why you'd be hesitant to tell him, but the truth is, I can't live another day with him thinking I'm dead. Even if things go awry, it has to be better for him to know that I'm alive, right? The fact that he's mourning me breaks my heart whenever I think about it. I don't want him to be sad, I need him to know that I'm here, and that I love him, that I'll see him again.
Tell Henry I'm planning on trying some Mongolian barbecue tomorrow. I want to see what all his fuss is about. I highly doubt it's better than anything you cook, though, my love, so don't worry, you won't lose me to takeout.
I can't wait to hear all about your weekend. Be careful on the drive, and come back to me safe, alright?
Love,
Robin.
Regina smiles, shaking her head in amusement at his takeout comment. She sighs when her eyes drift back to the paragraph before that, though.
He wants Roland to know.
She understands, of course, and she supposes he's right, even if things don't work out the way they're hoping, at the very least his son will know Robin's alive. That has to be better than thinking him gone.
Still, Regina can't say she's looking forward to telling him. Roland has suffered so much loss at his young age, she's afraid he'll hold onto this new hope just a little too tight.
The prospect of that conversation has her nerves acting up the entire drive home, and the closer they get to Storybrooke, the more anxious she is.
Snow and baby Neal are waiting for them at the mansion when they pull in, and David helps them with their suitcases while Emma hugs Henry tightly.
"How's it going, kid?" she asks with a smile as she pulls away, and Henry excitedly looks to Regina, waiting for her to nod her approval before he launches into an explanation of everything that's happened.
They've barely made it past the door and he's already breezing through the details, adding his own embellishments and sound effects as he tells them all about the chalice, what it did to him, and how Regina stopped it. Emma's eyes widen, David gasps, but Snow, Snow only looks at Regina, and she smiles.
"Our own special hero," she tells her, stretching her free hand to grab Regina's and squeeze.
"All I did was kill the thing," Regina says nonchalantly, leaning down to hold little Neal's hand and coo at him.
"You saved our son," Emma intervenes, making Regina look up from her little game with Neal. "And you did it by being you. Not a savior or an evil queen, but... you."
"Mom, you should've seen her! She was awesome, and then she broke the barrier!" Henry adds, talking to Emma, who puts an arm around him and hugs him to her.
"Wait, what barrier?" she asks when she realizes what he's said.
"The barrier keeping Robin away!" Henry exclaims, and he's so happy as he tells the story, Regina can't help but smile despite her nerves.
"What's he talking about?" Emma asks then.
Regina fills them in on everything. Tells them all about the Dragon and his revelation, about the whole ordeal with the chalice serving as a catalyst for Robin's timeline to stop, and how now they have to wait until this time next year, and they'll see him again.
"So he's coming back?" Snow asks, grinning widely as she shifts Neal to lie more comfortably in her arms.
"That's how it's supposed to go, yes." Regina confirms her statement with a nod, and then, "Where are the children?"
"The baby is at Granny's, and the Merry Men took Roland for a walk in the forest. He's missed you so much, Regina. He'll be so happy to see you," Snow tells her, and Regina can't help but squirm awkwardly in her seat.
"I... I need to talk to him. Alone. Explain all this," she says.
"Of course," her step-daughter replies kindly, awkwardly fishing her cell phone out of her pocket. "I'll text John and tell him to bring him over."
"John can text?" Henry pipes up, making David laugh as he takes the baby from Snow.
"Ruby taught him how to use a smartphone. They've been sending each other cat videos all week," he tells them, and Regina takes comfort in her son's answering laugh, grins a bit at the mental image, herself.
She relaxes a little, comforted by the ease of their family dynamic. She and Snow make tea while Neal naps in his bouncy chair, and Emma and David head out with Henry to pick up baby Robin (and grab some donuts in the process, too, Regina bets).
In under an hour they're all back at the house, and Regina delights in holding the little bundle of soft pink blankets, bops the child's nose with the tip of her finger and places a gentle kiss on her downy head. She's beautiful, smiles at Snow's funny faces and showcases dimples that are unmistakably her father's.
"She looks more and more like Robin every day," Regina observes, and Emma agrees with a grunt over a mouthful of donut.
"Don' let 'elena hear you say tha', though," she says then, and Regina rolls her eyes at the woman's lack of table manners.
"Swallow," she orders, and Emma does. "Now. Speak."
"I said, don't let Zelena hear you say that," the blonde clarifies. "She gets all weird when people comment on Robin and the baby."
"What do you mean weird?"
"I think she feels guilty. And she hates us for keeping an eye on her. And then she feels guilty for hating us... kind of a vicious cycle."
"Has she tried anything?" Regina asks.
"Not yet, but now that you're here, maybe you can talk to her? Tell her we're not the enemy?"
Regina nods at her friend, instinctively bouncing the baby in her arms when she starts to fuss a bit.
"Regina, they're here," Snow announces, then opens her arms to take the baby. "David took Neal upstairs. I'll take little Robin up, too, and feed her while you talk to Roland."
Regina nods, suddenly unable to form words. Her nerves are twisting her stomach into knots the entire time it takes for everyone to leave the kitchen.
Snow passes the living room on her way up, smiles at Roland's excited question of, "Can I give her the bottle?!"
"I'm sorry, honey, but you need to talk to Regina, remember? I'll have to feed your sister alone this time. But you can come up after you're done here and help me sing her to sleep, okay?"
Roland nods, kisses his sister's forehead when Snow crouches down low enough for him to reach, and Regina feels a little tug in her heart at the sight as she peeks out of the kitchen door.
Silence falls over the house then. Everyone is upstairs in Henry's room, their voices muffled by the closed door, and Roland and John are alone in the living room, with the curly-haired boy asking his uncle how much longer it'll be before he sees Regina.
Right. Time to get out there.
Regina takes a deep breath, tries to settle the nerves that have come back in full force, and exits the kitchen. It's now or never.
Roland's hug suckerpunches her right in the gut. His little arms wrapping around her tightly just as he mutters a tiny "I missed you, Regina," that has tears building instantly.
"I've missed you, too, sweetheart," she chokes out, holding on to him and running a hand through curls that have grown a bit longer than they should. It's a tiny thing, and maybe he even has a haircut appointment scheduled already, but it hits her, makes her feel guilty that she hasn't been here to take care of him. The Merry Men and the Charmings seem to be doing a good job, but it's not the same. It's not her.
"Uncle John said you wanted to tell me something," Roland mutters against her shirt, still holding on to her where they sit together on the couch. He's in her lap, cuddled into her as he speaks, his tiny hands gripping her arm as if in fear she'll leave again. It only makes the tears that much harder to keep at bay.
"I did!" she tries to fake enthusiasm, but her cheerfulness sounds stiff even to her own ears. "You see, Roland, I... we... your papa, he... he's alive."
He looks up then, finds her eyes with those big brown ones of his and stares at her.
"He, um, he didn't... die, sweetheart, he... he was transported. Magic took him to the future."
"The future?"
"Yes. It's a little complicated," Regina presses on, "but that's why I've... I went to New York, because that's where he is, only not now, but a year from now."
He frowns at that, confused, so she takes a deep breath, and tries her best to explain.
"When your papa... when he saved me from Hades, we all thought he had died, but then... Do you remember that book I gave to your father? The one with all the stories this world has about him?"
The boy nods slowly, and Regina nods in time with him.
"Well, okay, that book, that book has magic, Roland. I didn't know, but it does, and it— your papa wrote me a letter and he put it inside the book. When I found it, I decided to reply to him, even when I knew he was gone. I just wanted to tell him that I missed him, even if he never read it."
"You were sad," he concludes, and Regina nods again.
"I was, so I wrote him a letter, and I put it inside the book where he had left his... and when I checked again, it was gone. And then... Roland, he wrote back."
He gasps at that, shifts a little in her lap.
"But we put him in the box, Regina, I saw it. The box with the arrows that we put in the cemtry."
"Cemetery," she corrects. "And yes, we did, but after I got that letter, I came back to check and, sweetheart, he wasn't there."
"He wasn't?!"
"No. That's how I knew it was real, that he really was writing to me. A friend of mine who knows a lot about magic explained to me, that because your daddy died to save me, and because he... loves me—" gods, that word still sounds so foreign on her tongue, but she believes it, is completely sure of Robin's feelings for her, and the knowledge still sends a little thrill through her. "Because he loves me, the bad magic didn't work on him, and it brought him back, but it was a little wonky, and he ended up in this world, but in the future. I tried spells to bring him to our time, but they didn't work, so we have to wait for a year before we see him again, and I'm very sorry about that. But Roland, he's alive, he's coming back."
Her emotions get the best of her, and the tears finally fall as she smiles at the boy.
Except Roland isn't smiling, he's just looking at her, frowning.
"Roland? Honey, what's wrong?" she asks, and the boy only shakes his head.
"No!" he says.
"What do you mean, no?"
"You're lying. We put him in the box, Regina, he's gone with the angels now, like my mama, he's not coming back," he deadpans, and his voice is somber, far darker than it should be for a boy his age.
"Roland, I'm not lying," she tells him firmly, "your father is alive, and he is coming back. I've been writing to him for over a month now."
She tries to soothe him, to run a hand through his hair again, but it's clearly the wrong move. Roland recoils from her, gets off her lap and stands in front of her, his face set in an angry stare.
"I don't believe you. Uncle John says when people go with the angels they can't come back. You're lying!"
And with that, he runs out of the living room, crying and refusing to acknowledge the "Roland, please!" she throws after him.
Henry, she notices now, is standing at the stairs, and pauses Roland's attempt to stomp up them, puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder and waits for Regina to reach them.
"I've seen the letters, Roland," he explains, "it's true. Robin's alive."
He believes it then. Maybe it's because it's Henry telling him, and not an adult, but he finally believes it. The change in his crying is so subtle that hardly anyone would notice it, but to Regina, it is jarring. In an instant, it goes from angry, to confused, to desperate, and he's turning back to look at her then, all tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.
"He's alive?" he asks in a small voice, and Regina smiles as more of her own tears start to fall. She kneels down in front of him, replaces Henry's hand on Roland's shoulder, and looks him in the eyes as she repeats it.
"He is, sweetheart, and he wanted me to tell you that he loves you more than anything, and he will try everything he can to come back to us."
He launches himself into her arms then, and Regina holds on tight, mouths a Thank you to her son as he leaves them to it.
Roland cries and sniffles for at least ten minutes, his arms looped around her neck while Regina stays there, knees painfully pressed against the linoleum floor, but she doesn't dare move them to the couch just yet. She'll remain here until he's ready.
Finally, he pries himself away from her, and cleans up his tearful face with the back of his hand.
"Regina?"
"Yes, Roland?"
"How long is a year?"
She laughs at that, a wet chuckle that makes him smile. He likes making her laugh, she's noticed, likes to be the one to end her sadness when it creeps over. Just like his father.
She explains about the calendar, about counting down the days left before the timelines converge, and he insists on making one, himself, so that he and the baby can count down, too.
"I have to go back to New York the day after tomorrow, so I can let your father know that I've spoken to you, and that you're eating all your vegetables, and being a good big brother. But I'll come back again soon, okay? I'll come here as much as I can and bring the letters with me so you can see them."
He cries again, then, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Oh, honey, what's wrong? What's wrong? Tell me," she insists.
"I don't know how to read," he tells her, "I want to read the letters but I don't know how!"
"Oh, Roland, that's alright, baby. I'll read them to you. I'll read everything to you, and then I can teach you how to read, too."
"Really?" he asks then, and he looks so sad and confused, she wishes she could fix this now. Wishes she didn't have to put him through the pain of living without his papa for an entire year.
"I promise," she answers, and then, "In fact, I promised him I would take some pictures of you and your sister to send to him, so why don't you go wash your face? You don't want to look all blotchy in the pictures, do you?"
He shakes his head, then walks with slumped shoulders to the guest bathroom, leaving Regina alone in the foyer by the stairs.
She sits on the bottom step, elbows on her knees as she sinks her head in her hands, and breathes.
