He blazes into the apartment pissed off and heartbroken.

John takes one look at him and his face falls, breathing, "I'm sorry, man," as Robin feels the walls start to close in, his throat going tight, tears welling in his eyes.

No, no, he refuses. She does not get his tears, he will not cry over her.

John hesitantly asks, "Do you want to talk about it?" and he shakes his head vehemently as he tries to get his riotous emotions in check.

He's so goddamn in love with her still, and he aches and burns for her, even after that.

It's not fucking fair, this whole year has not been fucking fair.

Just when things were finally turning around for him, just when he was finally starting to feel normal again, this happens.

She's ruined his last day with John, yet another thing she destroyed when she crushed his heart this morning.

And fuck that. Fuck her. Fuck this.

He's all anger and hurt and heartbreak when all he wants is a damn break, wants to sit around and have a beer with his friend and think about anything other than how Regina Mills doesn't give a shit about him and never did.

He knows deep down that it is not his fault, but there's this stupid and weak part of him that wonders what would have happened if he spoke first, if he'd gotten those three words out.

It wouldn't have changed anything, it's not like she had any care for him at all, but it doesn't stop him from wondering.

He hates it, hates that that whole walk he kept flashing back to that devastated look on her face, wanting to run back and beg her to give him a chance.

But he will not.

He may not have much, but he has his damn pride.

"What can I do?" John asks, and isn't that the question?

What will make him feel better? The only things his mind comes up with are fucked up fantasies that will never be. Things John cannot do, and no, he's done with that. He's done with being this fucking angry. He needs to channel this anger somewhere, needs to expel it and dig fucking deep for a morsel of joy so she doesn't steal this too.

He would go to the gym but he'd hurt himself right now, he's too riled, would push too hard.

"I don't fucking know," is what he tells John, who eyes him sympathetically and dammit, that is not what he needs right now.

They end up playing Mortal Kombat, drinking beer as they beat the shit out of other characters. They do well, until they swap the beer for whiskey, and the screen starts to get swirly.

He gets fucking drunk, John right there with him, and it helps, somewhat, though he has regrets in the morning when he's hungover as hell just in time for a seven hour plane ride.

His heart is sick, now his body matches that, all of him feels like shit, and he doesn't imagine that will change anytime soon.

The days that follow pass in a sometimes numb sometimes devastated haze as Regina moves back in with her parents and attempts to settle in.

She'll think that she's finally okay, that things are turning into some semblance of normal, then she'll hear, "I never ever want to see you again," and it all falls apart.

It brings her to her knees every time she thinks about it, how he looked at her, such anger in his eyes. It breaks her every time, but that doesn't stop it from reverberating in her head over and over.

She can't escape it, can't escape his influence. Woke up one morning somehow forgetting what had happened and reached out to text him. It was only after she'd typed out a good morning message that she'd remembered, then put on some music to cover the sounds of her sobbing as she clutched her pillow.

She thought she was prepared for this, told herself it was for the best, but now, with how Robin hates her, it's hard to feel that way.

She didn't just lose a romantic relationship, she lost her whole relationship with him, and it's awful.

She's been laying low, not wanting anyone to know just how down she is, it's embarrassing after all. She's in a mess of her own making, and she does not deserve sympathy or comfort, would deserve the I told you so's and judgment her friends are too nice to give, but they wouldn't say those things.

Her dad has been watching her like a hawk the rare times she leaves her room, and she knows he's concerned, told him it was about a boy and to leave it alone, and she really thought he was going to.

But when her father calls her down for dinner that night, Mal is sitting at the table. It's a dinner she had tried to beg out of because her mother isn't home so there's no need for appearances, but he'd insisted on it, and now she knows why.

There's wine on the table, a bottle of red, a glass already poured for her beside the Gnocchi Gorgonzola her father prepared. The dish makes her mouth water, it's a favourite of hers, of Mal's too, and she knows it's her father's way of saying sorry for springing Mal on her like this.

She's annoyed, but she can't stay mad at him, he's been doing everything to make sure her mother isn't adding to her misery. She knows that if he did it, he only did it because he was worried, and she's well aware this could have all been Mal's idea.

Her father has always had a hard time standing up to strong women and Mal is no exception. Sometimes she thinks he might be scared of her friend, but if he is, it's outweighed by the affection he has for her, for the comfort her friendship has provided his daughter over the years.

She sits and says nothing, just takes a sip of her wine, then a bite of her dinner and waits for someone to say something.

It's her father who breaks the silence, confirming her suspicion that Mal was behind this all, when he remarks, "Mal dropped by earlier in the day, but you were napping, so I invited her to come for dinner."

She knows both of them well enough to know that "I invited her" is code for Mal invited herself, and she should have seen this coming.

Mal knows Regina too well to accept her bullshit excuses about wanting to catch up on sleep before she starts work. She'd been too relieved Mal had accepted them to question any further, and if she had, she would have realized this would happen.

The dinner proceeds with a lot of small talk, her dad encouraging Mal to tell stories of their law school experience. Regina's heart aches every time Mal mentions times Robin was there, but Mal never mentions him directly, and she's grateful for that.

Mal saves it all for when her father leaves them to talk, retiring to his study to read.

Regina sighs, pouring herself another glass of wine as she waits for her scolding.

Instead, she gets an interrogation. "What the hell happened, little one?"

She sighs, fiddling with her wine glass, not looking at Mal as she tries to work up the courage to tell the story without breaking down. "Robin and I are over, not that there was something but…"

Mal scoffs, drawing Regina's eye to her and the disbelieving expression on her face.

"What?" Regina demands, feeling an anger flare she knows is not actually caused by Mal and shouldn't be directed at her.

"Everyone knows it was something. You'd have to be blind not to see that you two were together. So what happened? What did the idiot do? I'm going to Italy later in the summer, I can make a stop over in the U.K. and kick his ass if necessary."

"What… it's not… he didn't do anything."

Mal's eyes widen, and she gasps, "You didn't." Regina doesn't say anything in response but she doesn't have to, because Mal adds, "Oh for the love of god. Regina, I love you, but you are a fucking idiot."

"Hey," Mal doesn't know, Mal doesn't understand and she shouldn't be scolding her like this. "I did what was necessary—" her voice catches as she flashes to his face when she did it, to the hate on it, to the pain and she loses her words.

"Necessary?! You ended it, right?" Regina nods as tears threaten to flow, but she will not cry.

Mal sighs, her exasperation evident, and it just makes Regina feel worse.

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Because… because…"

Words are failing her and her mind is swimming. It was so clear then, but now, a week later with all the pain she's been swallowed by, it's hard to understand the logic.

Mal finishes her sentence for her, in a soft, gentle tone she so rarely pulls out, "Because you love him."

No, that's not it, it's not. "I don't love him."

Mal gets up out of her own chair then, comes to sit beside Regina and squeezes her arm as she insists, "Yes, you do. And you've self-sabotaged again. I get it, I do, your mother fucked you up, but you are worthy of love, you don't need to be scared and run away."

The tears fall then, and not for the reason Mal thinks, but she can't calm herself enough to explain. Mal just hugs her, lets her cry it out until she finds her voice again.

Her voice is shaky and stuttery, weak in a way she hates as she tells Mal, "You don't get it."

Mal raises a brow, tells her plainly, "I think it's you that doesn't get it, but tell me what happened."

She takes a breath, then grimaces, standing up and going into the living room to grab a Kleenex to clean herself up with.

Mal joins her, bottle of wine and glasses in hand, as she's blowing her nose.

They settle on the couch and she takes a too big gulp of her wine that makes her grimace, before she starts her story. To her surprise, Mal doesn't interrupt her, but her face shows how much she disagrees with Regina's assessment of things.

"We were never together, and I did, I do, I have feelings for him—" She's not sure why that was so hard to get out, she's admitted it to herself before, but saying it aloud, to someone else, took a lot, "—but it was never like that for him." That earns a scoff, but Mal gestures for her to go on, "Summer was coming up and I knew I'd hang on for him, if I didn't… we were friends with benefits and the benefits were going to stop so…"

"What exactly did you say to him?"

"That we shouldn't anymore and shouldn't pick it back up in September." Mal's brows shoot up, and it makes her feel even more defensive, "I couldn't have something to hang onto. If I'm ever going to get over him, I can't have that option."

"Oh, sweetheart. You really made a mess of things."

That's an understatement, but what else was she supposed to do? She asks Mal that, and her answer is ridiculous, "You love him and he loves you, too. You should have done literally anything else."

"Mal, he doesn't—"

"No, no, you had your turn and now I am going to set you straight, since you are apparently blind to the reality here." She glares at Mal for that unnecessary barb, but it doesn't deter her, "You two were together, just without the label. You were both too dumb to admit your feelings, probably both thought the other wasn't interested when you were. If you had just told him you lov—liked him, none of this would have happened."

Mal does not understand. "He didn't."

"Regina Mills, for god's sake. He took care of you when you were sick, leaned on you when he found out about his mother, was glued to your side at every event we attended, that is not casual, that is not no feelings. Maybe he was scared like you, maybe he was afraid you didn't feel the same, maybe you are both idiots who made this way more complicated than it needed to be, but that doesn't change the fact that you both want to be together."

She shakes her head, feels the tears welling up again, but pushes them away, "Mal you weren't there. He told me… he threw that we weren't together in my face, told me we were just fun and that I was sucking the fun out of it."

It hurts to think of, that had been the moment, that was when she let go of that crumb of hope that they could be more. He'd made his feeling clear and she'd known from then on what she needed to do. She hadn't expected him to hate her so much for it, but he has a temper just as she does, and she'd seen it before.

Mal hmms, then asks, "Was that when you broke up with him?"

She huffs in frustration, she didn't break up with him, Mal knows that, but it's not worth fighting over, she knows she won't convince Mal even though Mal is wrong. So she just answers her with, "No, before that."

Mal shakes her head, "What a moron. Why? Why would he do that? Was he mad? Was he lashing out after finding out about his mom? He's an idiot, but there has to be more to this."

Regina doesn't like all the idiots that are being thrown around, about her and Robin, and tries to set Mal straight. "I… yes, it was after he found out about his mom, and he was mad at me, rightfully so, but he meant it."

She knows he did, she saw it in his face, in the way he spat it at her. He broke her heart that day, not intentionally, but just as much as she did when she finally ended it last week.

"Oh my god, so that's why, it all comes down to that one comment."

One comment, one comment. It angers her that Mal is bringing it down like that. It doesn't matter that it was only one time, it's what was said that matters. Regina simply nods tersely, reaching for her wine and pouring herself more when she finishes off her glass.

"Did you ever even ask him if he meant it?" Regina shakes her head no. "And did he ever tell you how he actually felt? Not how you think he did, but that he wanted to be with you or that he loved you."

"He said it once, but it didn't… it was during sex, it didn't count, and he froze, panicked, he clearly didn't mean it."

Mal raises her hands up and scrunches them up near her head, showing off her barely veiled frustration. "No one just says that during sex. He may have panicked but not because he didn't mean it. Honestly, Regina, how are you not seeing this? What do I have to do to make you understand?"

Mal is saying things she only let herself hope, and she listens, even though she knows in her heart that Mal is wrong.

"Do I need to walk you through every moment I saw you guys together and what I saw? Because what I saw was two people who cared a lot about each other, who were there for each other constantly, that had a depth of trust most friendships don't even have. You opened up to him about me, about your concerns."

That just shows the depth of her feelings, doesn't mean that Robin cared, even though she aches for it to be true.

Mal goes on, "If he didn't care he wouldn't have been there for that, he wouldn't have checked up on me himself. He's a good man, Regina. I'm fairly certain he told me once just how much he liked you one night, but I was really drunk and that whole night is fuzzy. Even if he didn't, he showed it. How are you not seeing this?"

What if Mal is right? She wants her to be right, desperately, wants all of that to have meant to him what it did to her. It can't be true, can it? She hadn't let herself hope for that, had convinced herself it was one way, but what if she was wrong?

"I don't… he said he didn't."

"And you did the same, right?"

Mal has her there, she may not have said it but she implied it. Several times, and oh god, what if Mal is right?

Maybe it's because she's so heartbroken that this is so appealing, but she finds herself looking at all those moments differently, seeing the soft caresses as expressions of a genuine affection, thinks of his face when she ended it, of that roaring anger.

What else explains that reaction?

She has to find out; she can't live with this burning in her mind.

Mal's smug, "There it is," barely registers as her mind whirs.

She needs to see him, but she can't, need to talk to him, now. But she's a little drunk and while it's not all that late here, he's five hours ahead, and she cannot imagine he'd enjoy a three am call.

This is something she should really do in person, but there's no time, and it's not like she could just show up at his doorstep. She starts work on Monday, and it's not like she can fly across the ocean for one day.

And there's that chance that Mal is wrong, and where would that get her.

She's messed it all up and now there's no easy way to fix it, to get answers. She'll have to call him, she can't let this fester until September. She needs to know, wants to call him now so damn badly, but she won't. She will wait until the morning, will call him then and dammit, he better answer. It's Friday night, will be Saturday for him, so he should be available, better be available.

He asked her not to contact him again, and she doesn't even know if he'll answer his phone, but she needs to try, needs to find out.

She wants to throw up when she wakes up, not because of the wine, but because she's so goddamn nervous. Her hands are actually shaking as she goes to stand, and god, she needs to get it together.

It's just… this could be it, she could get everything she wanted this morning, or her fragile heart that's barely taped together could be shattered yet again, and she's not sure she'd be able to pick up the pieces again, after letting herself hope.

She has to count out her breath, has to force herself to suck in slowly, hold, and exhale. Her hands stop shaking, but that pit in her stomach doesn't leave, and she knows it won't.

It's now or never, she needs to do this.

The worst that can happen is he doesn't answer the phone, that's what she tells herself over and over even though she can picture a hundred other worse things, things that are more likely to happen.

She almost loses her nerve, ends up dropping the phone onto her bed and sighing. She's fucking terrified, breathing heavily even though there is potential for good, that Robin will be happy, will want to be with her. She has to do it for that, even though she is not a glass half full person, has a hard time looking on the bright side. What she sees are risks and downsides, her brain thinks through every last thing that can go wrong, which helps her be prepared when it does, but causes a ton of unnecessary stress and worry.

Is Robin really going to tell her he hates her and was sleeping with nearly everyone in their year at the same time as her? Not likely, but she still worries about it, or worse that he'll tell her it was just one other person and he wants to make a go of it with them.

He's Robin though, he's only said cruel things to her twice, and both times he was raging mad—even if it is true that he has someone else, he won't throw it in her face, he's better than that.

So she calls.

And it rings, and rings, and rings.

Until his voicemail picks up, the sound of his recorded hello making her heart race. She misses him, misses his voice, needs to hear it. She feels something inside of herself settle as she listens to his surprisingly detailed voicemail message. It talks about him being out of the country and to message him on Facebook, because he won't be taking calls on this phone.

She pulls up Facebook once it's finished, and he's online so she hits the audio call button. She's in her pajamas not a speck of makeup, her eyes surely red-rimmed from all the crying she has been doing. She looks like shit, and she doesn't want him to see that.

He declines her call, so she messages him, a simple, "I need to talk to you."

She sees when he reads it and immediately hits that call button again.

His voice is cold when he answers with a, "What do you need, Regina?"

It stuns her, the steely tone and the still bubbling anger, then she remembers what Mal said, why else would he be this mad? "I… I miss you."

His, "I thought I said not to contact me," is a lance to the gut, but she pushes past it.

"I know but… I need…" her voice is choked and her anxiety is rising and fuck, fuck.

"What?"

She stutters out an, "I miss my friend," before her voice catches and she stifles a 's not even what she meant to say, she meant to tell him that she has feelings for him, that she cares about him so damn much, but those words freeze on her tongue and she just can't seem to get them out.

"I need to not talk to you for a while."

She knows he's going to hang up, yells out, "Wait!"

"Yes."

"I…" Fuck this is it, what is wrong with her?

"You what, Regina? I don't have time for this."

"I c-care about you."

His voice softens slightly, "And I about you, but I cannot do this. You need to honour my wishes and give me a break from you, form this, from all of it. I just can't… I'll contact you when I'm ready."

"But Robin—"

The call is disconnected and she falls back onto the bed, crying harder. She had to do one thing and she fucked it up. Now look at her, at them. If she can't get her own feelings out over the phone, how the fuck is she supposed to ask him about his? He's so damn hurt, and she knows now why.

She messed it all up.

And she's not sure she can fix it.

Mal comes over again that night, and she has to deliver the unfortunate news.

Once she's finished her tale, Mal comments dryly between sips of red wine (her second glass already), "Never knew you to be so defeatist."

She's feeling defensive now, stutters out, "I—what?"

"The Regina Mills I know doesn't give up just like that. You are a fighter, get that fight back."

It's true, she normally is, but this year has taken a lot out of her, and somewhere along the line she lost that. She hasn't pushed on things she should have, like, for example, Mal's drinking. She comments, "That's rich, coming from you."

Mal bristles, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your drinking. You have a problem."

Mal had been reaching for her glass, but she pauses, rolls her eyes, and retreats her hand. "Not this again. I am fine. You know what? I am so fine, I won't have any more tonight, won't even finish this glass, even though it's a waste of good alcohol and I hate to waste."

She knows Mal is one who rises to a challenge and she's going to use it in her favour if she can. "Why don't you start that month of sobriety?"

Mal scoffs, "Please, I'm going on an overseas trip in two weeks. But just to show you, I won't drink until then."

Regina's sure this is a terrible way to lead her friend into sobriety, but nothing else has worked, so she's going with it. "We'll see."

"Don't we'll see me. I'm going to do it. But you have to promise me this will make you shut up about my drinking. For good."

Regina nods, "That works for me."

"Okay, good." Mal reaches for her glass again, then curses, "Can you take this away? I won't lose because I grab it on instinct."

Regina nods, grabbing the glass and her own, finishing hers off on the way into the kitchen, dumping Mal's down the drain and quickly washing the glasses.

When she comes back in, Mal drawls, "So now that we've covered me, what are you going to do about Robin?"

Regina sighs, settling back onto the couch beside Mal. "Try again? It didn't go so well the first time, but I… I froze. I can't explain it, I just, I could not get the words out."

"Sounds like something you should talk about in therapy."

Regina snickers, "Probably true, but that doesn't help me at this moment."

Mal ponders, "What time is it there now?"

She does the mental calculation, "Twelve-thirty."

"It's Saturday night," Mal remarks far too casually, "He's probably still up."

Regina's stomach plummets to her shoes. She's not ready for that.

Mal grabs her phone, pulls something up, then comments, "His Facebook messenger says active twenty-three minutes ago. I bet he's still up."

God, she can't do this now, she'll fuck it all up again. Mal winks at her, then she realizes Mal is here, Mal can save her if she does, in fact, fuck it all up.

She takes a deep breath, comments dryly, "That wine woulda been good to down right about now," and opens her Facebook messenger.

She doesn't take a breath the entire time the call rings, but he doesn't pick up and she falls back into the cushions with a sigh.

Mal doesn't let her off that easy, makes her practice the conversation, makes her say I have feelings for you over and over until it seems less scary.

She's actually feeling decent about it in the morning when she goes to call him, but he's not in her recent messages, their conversations have disappeared. She doesn't think much of it, until she searches him and another Robin Locksley pops up.

She goes onto actual Facebook and he's gone. She sees the pictures she knows she tagged him in, but his name is no longer attached to and she knows.

After Daniel found out what she'd done, after he vented all of his frustrations, screamed at her about what a horrible person she was, he'd blocked her on everything.

Now it seems Robin has done the same, and she cannot blame him, not after what she did.

She fucked this up. She did this, she and she alone is the only reason they aren't together. She went and ruined them, took what they had and set it ablaze, not even leaving a stable frame they could rebuild with.

She did what she always does, took something good, precious and pure and tainted it, ruined it.

It's a wonder Robin even talked to her the other day, with how she treated him. She has no one to blame for all of this pain but herself.

She broke them, and now they may never be able to put it back together, all because of what she did.

The worst of it is that even if she had the chance, she's not sure she could say what's needed, even with all the practice.

She is a self-destructive coward, and it's one thing for it to hurt her, but that she also hurt Robin crushes her.

She deserves to end up alone, but Robin, poor Robin. After everything, he deserves so much better than her.

Maybe with her silence he'll find that, find someone better than her, someone worthy of a guy like him.