AN: So I know it's been a long time but with college and re-sitting maths and just generally finding time to myself, this had to be sacrificed briefly. I did take a hiatus but I wanted something other than education to think about so I finally got round to typing up another chapter. I have no idea when the next one will be posted but just bear with me and it'll come soon.

A special thanks to Anastasia for beta-ing this for me. And yeah...I hope you all like it :)

Having a person run into him was the last thing Robin expected on his mission to find Killian. He can't help but feel annoyed at being knocked over by some drunk idiot; his drink flying somewhere, and his back painfully hitting against the concrete.

It's only when he hears terrified sounding cries, and a crowd begins to gather around them, that he lets out an are you okay? and when she looks up all annoyance is gone. It's replaced by worry and confusion as to why the nameless girl who's been preoccupying his mind since he first met her is crying.

She doesn't answer though. Instead, she buries her face into his shirt and Robin becomes more aware of the people around them, of the flash of the odd camera that goes off because people are too wasted (they wouldn't care even if they were sober) to realise that the girl who is going to get them the most likes on whatever media website they're on is currently shaking and crying in his arms.

He suddenly feels a powerful need to protect her from them all, their whispers and flashes. He can't explain it, it's just there.

So he pushes himself off the ground and she seems to be at least a little bit aware of what's going on because she follows his lead. Climbs off him slightly in order for Robin to get up. She's still sniffing slightly as he takes her hand a leads her through the crowd, pushing at those who were in the way.

As they walk, the scene behind them resumes, everyone going back to the fun time they were having. She learns a little more into him, both her arms wrapping around his one and Robin resists the urge to move it from her grasps and wrap it around her.

He's thankful when he finds an empty room. It's at the back of the house, probably a spare bedroom, and even though the music and talking can still be heard, it does seem to be the most quiet place available.

Robin removes his arm from the girl's grasp to open the door for her. When they're inside, she kicks her shoes off and sits on the bed, staring at nothing and looking very far away.

Robin takes his own seat on a chair and leans forward on his elbows. At first, nothing is said. She isn't crying anymore but that doesn't seem to make the situation okay again. In fact, it makes Robin feel worse. He thinks he would prefer it if she was crying.

''Thank you.''

It's a tiny whisper, almost inaudible, but Robin's surprised by it anyway. He looks up to find that she's no longer staring off into space but looking at him, her eyes puffy and red.

He resists the temptation to move beside her. Thinks that that's not something she needs right now. So he stays where he is and repeats the question he asked earlier.

''Are you okay?''

''I'm fine.''

The answer comes quick. Screams to Robin that she isn't fine. He knows she isn't. She'd just been crying not five minutes ago. But he doesn't press her, doesn't force her to tell him, he's just a stranger she met in a library after all.

''I want to go home.''

The words are spoken quietly and Robin wonders if he heard them at all. His heart aches at the sight of her, the way she brings her knees tighter to her chest, her eyes seemingly covered with a misty cloud.

Somehow, he knows she isn't referring to the school. That couldn't be anyone's home. She's taking about her home. The one she was, no doubt, forced to leave.

It makes him feel sick sometimes. The thought that anyone could send their own child away. He wouldn't do it. Wouldn't it be better to right the problem yourself instead of getting other people to do it for you? Robin didn't understand some parents.

He forces her mind away from the rights and wrongs of people's parenting and instead focuses on the girl in front of him who just said she wanted to go home. Sighing, he stands up, decides to take her to the only home he can. The school.

''I'll walk you back if you like.'' he tells her.

The girl- he really needs to find out her name- stares at him, then nods, picking up the shoes she kicked off before and Robin asks if she'll be okay walking in her bare feet. Her answer is a quick nod with a little sniff and Robin guesses if she starts to feel uncomfortable, well, he could give her his shoes.

He opens the door, letting her go through first, and thankfully, the hall is empty as they make their way downstairs, looking for the nearest exit.

After a very hard hour, Mary Margaret finally places the curling iron down on the table as her other hand starts to rearrange her curls. She smiles, happy with the outcome as Ashley scribbles away the bed. She opens her top drawer and her smile falters when she sees her ribbons. Mary meant to throw them away ages ago but, seemingly being the last gifted child in the school and the founder's daughter, it seems more work was given to her than the others and remembering to do little things like throwing stuff away tended to get lost in the back of her mind.

Still, she pushes them aside to find the clips at the back. Taking two red ones out, she drops one onto the desk and begins to clip the side of her hair up.

''I don't know why you bother.'' Mary's eyes look towards Ashley's reflection in the mirror. ''You're never going to look like her, Snow.''

Mary rolls her eyes at the nickname. She longed since grew out of that, the same time she grew out of her ribbons and started curling her hair, but she doesn't correct Ashley. Instead, she focuses on what she said before, avoiding eye contact in the mirror. ''It's not about looking like her-''

''Then what is it about?''

She should be doing her work. Should be researching about animal care. She should be almost finished by now. She should not be looking at him.

She can't help it, though. Can't stop her attention being drawn to him when his chair scrapes across the floor and he gets up to move, can't help but look at him when she hears his voice.

Snow has no idea why she's so distracted today. It never bothered her last year, or any other day before yet she just can't seem to find it in her to concentrate on writing...

''I have been waiting a year for this day.''

Snow forcefully brings her attention away from him to Mal in front of her.

''What?'' Snow asks, the distraction still heavily hinted in her voice.

Mal leans forward, her bouncy curled hair falling over her shoulder as a smile spreads across her face. ''My little flake of snow is in loveeee.'' she bops her on her nose with a rolled up piece of paper.

Snow automatically jumps back slightly and the sentence is enough to make her attention land fully on Mal now. Snow frowns, her arms crossing over her body as she defencelessly cries, ''No, I'm not!'' Because she isn't. She can't be.

Mal's smile doesn't waver. ''It's okay,'' she tells her. ''We've all been there.''

Snow lets her arms drop slightly, her gaze moving back over to him who is now at his table, writing. Would it really be a big deal if she did love him? Or, like him, at least. Love is something that doesn't seem meant for her.

''But...'' comes Mal's voice again, and Snow looks back to her. ''If you want to get David's attention, you have to stop looking like an eight year old.''

Snow watches as Mal's eyes flicker to her bow and she frowns once more. ''What's wrong with my bow?''

''Dear, what's right with it?''

Snow's resolve softens slightly. She guesses if she wants to give this love, or crush, or whatever it is, a go, she has to ditch the eight-year-old bows at some point. And if Mal is agreeing to help her achieve this, well...she has to do what she says.

So Snow reaches up and begins untying the ribbon's bow as the pink, silky fabric comes loose and she untangles it from her hair.

''Now that...is an improvement.'' Snow smiles lightly, can't help but feel a little lost at the loss of her ribbon until she mentally kicks herself and tells herself that it's just a stupid ribbon, it's not like her life depends on it. ''Now, all we need to do is fix the rest of you so, since I know you're not going to leave your work until you're done, come to my room and I'll help you get his,'' her eyes flicker to David briefly, ''attention.'' Mal stands up then, picking up her books, and making her way out of the library filling Snow with an unsettling feeling in her stomach about what the older girl's going to do to her.

''So...?'' Ashley's voice cuts through Mary Margaret's memory.

She looks up again, looks at Ashley in the mirror. ''Nothing.'' Mary says, wanting to end the conversation. ''It's just a new style.''

''Fine. But if Emma was here, she would have told you to get your own style instead of trying to be like other people.''

The conversation is left at that, Ashley picking up her stuff and leaving and Mary left to stare at her reflection. Her finger curls in her hair. She wasn't trying to steal anyone's style...Mal offered it to her and hasn't taken it away yet. Besides, it was all unnecessary anyway, David still hadn't notice her.

She turns her head to the window, to the house a little away and into the bedroom. The lights are off. He isn't home. Probably at that stupid party.

Her eyes move down to the ground when she sees two people walking across the grass. The new girl...Regina. Moving from her chair, she opens the window, the cool air hitting her face, as she shouts down. ''Do you know how to climb?''

Regina looks up briefly, then to the boy who walked her home, then back at Mary.

''Not really.''

Mary sighs, shouts; ''I'm doing this for you once. Ask Emma to teach you how to climb.'' and promptly shuts the window before the new girl can say anything back before making her way down to the back door.

Her feet are killing. Probably all cut and blistered from the walk, and already sore from the shoes. She could kill Mal. For multiple reasons right now. Giving her these shoes, leaving her at that party, dragging her to the party in the first place...Though the night hadn't gone to plan (like there was any plan to begin with) she was thankful that the person she managed to smack into was him. Robin, she'd found out his name was, it suited him. She'd apologised for possibly making him Monday's breaking news, though he'd shrugged it off, told her half of them wouldn't remember what happened, would probably stare at the photos wondering what they meant. She'd laughed at the truthfulness of his words and told him how she hadn't wanted to go, how Mal dragged her along, which then led them to now. Standing outside the back door of the near pitch black building.

''Thank you,'' she says, again. ''For walking me home.''

''Anytime.''

He gives her a quick smile before a shout is heard, turning them both up to the third floor to find Mary Margaret asking if she knows how to climb. She doesn't, a wall maybe, but not a building, no...The window is shut and the light is turned off, leaving Regina to suspect that the younger girl is on her way down to let her in through the back door.

They wait until the light is flickered on and she turns to him. ''I need my- Mal's- shoes back now.''

She nods to the shoes he kindly offered to carry back for her.

''Oh right,'' he says, handing them out to her. She takes them and when her fingers graze against his hand his eyes are shooting up to look at her, the fast movement having her do the same. There's a brief moment between them, a spark or something as they both hold the shoes, and she's suddenly lost with how blue his eyes actually are, especially with the light behind her shining into them.

But then there's Mary Margaret's shout of, Hurry up, I don't want to get caught. And the moment is gone. They can't go down that path. Not here. Not when she's been sent to this school for that very reason. Not when all he'll do is meet the same fate as Daniel should Cora ever find out. Or worse. Her heart aches at that thought, the door of grief opening up a crack again. She shuts it before it can open further, takes back the shoes and quickly turns away, hoping Robin didn't see anything. As she practically runs towards the door she only slightly catches his Night, Regina, before Mary Margaret is shutting the back door and his voice and eyes and whole self is lost from her view.