A/N: hello, this darling is back.
i know it's been a year *ahem* so i'd suggest you go and give it a quick reread before diving into this one. xx
It's raining, tonight.
Pouring down from the skies, and Regina watches the rain, thinking, she could have gone flying tonight. She's busy regretting her choices as she sees a potent lighting rip up the sky, the thunder following almost immediately. It would have been a perfect night. Alas, she has papers to grade, because a break is coming on her school's schedule, and she needs the students to have their marks before it.
She sighs, her hand curling around a steaming mug.
And that's when she hears it.
Thud.
It's one single noise, loud, and maybe it's because of her sharpened senses – she was so interwoven with the storm, just feeling it, that she also felt the noise, and she wonders what it is. More noise comes from – from upstairs, she notes, from her attic, she runs upstairs – a certain sensation creeping up on her. Another lightning lands so close to her house she swears she could feel the ground shake, but that's not the issue right now. Her main focus is on the attic, and what she'll find when she goes through the door.
She pushes it open, and nothing could ever prepare her to what she sees.
There's a hole in the roof – the skylight has been broken, rain cascading down through the it, the floor is wet, rivulets of water slithering to her feet – and there's something on the floor, under the hole, and it's moving.
A low groan startles her.
She can't see, it's dark up here, so she gets closer, ready to change of shape, if it's an enemy, if it's some kind of beast the gods have sent, but… the smell, it's so familiar, when it hits her nostrils, and her breath catches, she crouches down next to the fallen form.
It's him.
"Regina," he moans, turning towards her, facing her as his wing bends and cracks horribly underneath his back, it's not supposed to, it shouldn't – his other wing was covering him until now, it splays up and she sees the red, no, the blue, his blood.
"You're… you're bleeding," she breathes, horrified, her hand going up to cover the wound on his hip, the translucent blue drips between her fingers.
"I'm sorry, I – I didn't know where else to go," he manages to say, she launches forwards, catches him as he collapses in her arms.
.:.
He wakes up in spurts, sees flashes of images before him, and then unconsciousness catches him again. Her face, most of all, screaming, frightened eyes, telling him to stay awake: but he fails her, he passes out. Then, her wings, he knows, he remembers those wings, she is so beautiful when she transforms. Her perfume and her strength as she lifts him up and leads him down the stairs, and maybe they've fallen, but he knows she won't let him fall – she won't…
His side hurts, so much, he wants to scream. He wants to scream at the gods who have allowed this, but he can't, and Regina is there worrying herself, and… she looks lovely, she does…
.
When he wakes again, he doesn't see her face. The eyes that greet him are not brown – they're blue.
"Belle?" he asks, groggily, confused. Belle is Australian, for heaven's sake, how is she here? How did this happen?
"Robin," she exhales. "Are you alright? How are you feeling?"
"Where's Regina?"
His head is spinning, but he knows he was at Regina's, he knows he must be on her couch… he has fallen through her roof, he is sure of it.
"Upstairs, she's cleaning up. Does it hurt? Your side?"
"It hurts… less than before," he grimaces, trying to sit up, but Belle keeps him down with surprising strength.
"Hang on, I'll let her know you're awake. Stay put for a moment – stay there! Please, you can't get up yet."
She's back with Regina in a matter of moments, and… marvelous, now he has not one but two supernatural beings staring at him. It makes him smile, for some reason. He notices Regina's hands are trembling slightly as she crouches down next to the sofa, but her voice is steady.
"What happened?"
.:.
She wants to vomit.
He may look okay now, but she has seen him just after his fall, she has seen the wound, and he passed out – he doesn't know how she tried to heal him and how she was terrified of making mistakes, how she went to his house under the storm and found Belle's number.
It hasn't been easy.
She was frantic, his blood still on her hands as she called her, and Belle was – incredibly – in their same continent, in their same state, and Regina didn't ask why, but Belle was definitely avoiding the question. It's not her business, and frankly it wasn't her priority, but she only started to breathe again the moment Belle crossed her threshold.
She didn't know what to do for him, and it was horrible, without adding the couple of embarrassing minutes she spent trying to explain that yes, she was a devil, but she didn't mean him any harm, and no, she didn't do this to him – if she did, why would she have called a friend of his for help, for hell's sake? And could Belle please, please take care of him and put off the questions until later?
But now – now he looks better, all things considered, his side cleaned up and stitched and bandaged, his broken wing tightly wrapped in place (she doesn't even want to think about the fractured bones, it makes her shiver).
And he's smiling.
The idiot is smiling at her, she doesn't know if Belle gave him painkillers or something of the sort, but he looks drugged, and if he keeps up with the smiling then his friend will figure out… but of course she must have figured it out already, that they're not just friends, right?
She tries to erase that stupid smile from his stupid smiling face, and asks him what happened.
It works – the smile falls, as he grimaces slightly.
"I don't know what happened," he murmurs. "I was flying in the storm – as I have done a thousand times before, that was not the issue – but I was hit, it was… like some sort of spear. It fell, after hitting me, and I couldn't see, I couldn't understand what was happening."
"You didn't see who hit you?" she asks, her fist closing, her nails sinking into her flesh.
"No, it was dark, and it was so sudden, I… I was just thinking about flying home – I mean, flying where I could find some help."
Belle has been silent, until now. She knows, Robin told her how brilliant she is, that her mind is used to ponder and consider all the possibilities, so it doesn't surprise her when she asks her, "Do you think it could have been someone… on your side?"
Regina turns to look at her, still crouched on the floor, and nods, "I can see why it sounds likely, but this is not their style. They… we, we like to act in the shadows, to gather information and then strike in the open, a direct attack to a defenseless and unprepared enemy is… uncommon."
She feels Robin's hand taking hers, and if this were any other moment, she'd smile.
"So who did this?" Belle asks. "It can't be someone on our side."
"I dunno," Robin says, trying to shift on his elbow and failing, as a huff exits his mouth. "I mean, it could be some sort of warning. Maybe it hasn't got anything to do with Regina, maybe it's just… I don't know."
"But why would someone on your side wound one of their own? I mean, I could expect it from my people, but…"
Belle scoffs, "Regina, our people are not all frills and pretty feathers. People who think they're in the right will do unspeakable things in the name of goodness."
Don't I know that, she thinks.
.:.
It's been decided that Robin will stay at Regina's for a couple of days.
He can't turn back into a human, not until his wing has fully healed, and that will take at least a week. The wound on his hip will heal faster, but the wing… it's an entirely different story. He had an uncomfortable talk with Belle, right before she's left the house to go somewhere. She told him she's worried, and that they will talk again soon, and to take care – he knows she doesn't trust Regina, not yet, and why should she anyway? She's not like Gabriel, or Michael, she's always been one of a kind, unlike those angels who see the world in black or white – Belle knows there are shades of grey. Still, she told him, I just hope you know what you're doing, Arariel.
Robin has nodded, he appreciates her trust – if not in Regina, at least in him. "Thank you for coming, Belle."
He has watched her leave from the window, still sitting on the sofa, because Regina wouldn't let him get up.
"I'll have to be at the school soon, you'll be alright on your own?" her voice comes suddenly, entering the living room. She's dressed up, in a grey pantsuit and high heels, a cup of coffee in her hand. He realizes, just now, that she must have stayed up half the night on his account.
"Yeah, don't worry," he says, scratches sheepishly his neck. "Regina, I… I'm sorry I dragged you into this."
She turns, and much to his surprise, there's the shadow of a smile on her lips. "Don't mention it. Just… I hope my mother doesn't come to visit – she shouldn't, she knows I'm at work, but… be careful, alright? Feel free to make a couple of miracles happen if you need it. It'd be a tad difficult to explain."
He chuckles, watches her leave – he's already phoned the school, told them he'll need a substitute teacher for a week or so. He sighs, stretches on the sofa, and tries to focus on healing.
.:.
He must have managed to move upstairs, because when she comes back home, he's settled himself in the guest room. (She wonders, now, why she didn't bring him there in the first place, but she was panicking, and well – the guest room doesn't have a fireplace anyway, and she needed to warm him up after his flight.)
"Hi," she says, lingering near the door. "May I come in?"
His eyes lift, widening a little as he takes her attire in – she's changed, after school, and well, did he think she'd stay in her pantsuit, even at home? Now she's in a white sweater, and some horrible pair of leggings her sister gifted her with. They look awful, but they do their job, and judging by his appreciating gaze – that she most certainly hasn't missed – he agrees.
She sees him realize he's staring, and he quickly sobers up, nods, "Yeah – yeah of course, it's your house, after all."
Regina smirks at that, goes to sit on a corner of the bed. "You seem to have made yourself at home, though," she teases. "What are you doing?"
He shrugs, and glances at the sketchbook on his lap. "Drawing – stuff," he says, his hand moves slightly as if to cover it. "How was your day?"
"Not bad, actually – it seems the last tests have finally convinced some students they'll need to work their ass off, next term."
Robin nods, says, "Of course they will," but she notices, his mind is somewhere else, the drawing half-abandoned on his lap, and she glances at it – it's something like… wings.
"Everything alright?"
"Yes – yes," he mutters. "I was thinking… you know, I'll have to tell Mary Margaret about what happened."
Silence, a beat. Her mind runs, a range of possibilities popping up in her brain like daisies after winter.
"Robin, no. What if she insist on coming to see you? What if she asks how you managed to save yourself after falling? And if she's behind it?"
"And what if she isn't? But – if she is behind it," he reasons, "she would suspect something if I don't call her, right?"
"Right… I suppose."
"You don't… like her so much, do you? What happened between you two?"
Her breath catches, memories resurfacing as quick as waves, and she sighs. "Scoot over," she tells him. "It's a long story."
.:.
She tells him the tale of Mary Margaret, the reason why she hates one of the most powerful angels. He listens to her, draws absentmindedly – at some point he decided to lay on his stomach, so he could look down at the sketchbook, so he didn't have to look at her in the eye – he thought it'd be better, less difficult, less painful, and maybe he was right.
Because her voice is steady and unwavering as she tells him of a boy named Daniel, a human. He wonders how many years ago it happened, how many reincarnations ago – how she took a liking to him, because he didn't know of her… foulness, and he saw her as someone pure, somehow.
"I thought I could get away with it, I thought I could pretend to be a simple human," she murmurs. Robin doesn't dare to lift his eyes. "Gabriel cornered me – she knew I was caught between two fires… she made sure we had an audience. Daniel saw my powers for the first time, he saw my true form, but he was not alone, there were other devils there, watching. Gabriel told me his time had come, to surrender him to her, let him into Heaven, but… we can't – " she chokes back a sob, and now, now Robin looks up, and sees the tell-tale signs of tears in her eyes. He slides his hand up to hers, squeezes her fingers.
It seems to ground her, she takes a breath, and continues. "We can't surrender a soul to the angels. She knew – either she'd gain a soul and condemn me, her enemy, to a harsh punishment by the hand of my people… or she'd lose a soul to Hell, but she'd break me in the process. Of course, she made sure all devils knew I was in love with him and that I'd hesitated before damning him."
"So you… had to damn him?" he whispers. He thinks of a younger Regina, facing that impossible choice, and thinks of his Marian, and how lucky he has been because Marian is at peace now, and how Regina must have felt when she has learned of the tree in the Elysium.
"I was selfish," she says. Her eyes are like stone now, looking towards somewhere far away. "I chose myself over him, and… the irony is, I was punished anyway," she says, cold as ice. Her eyes look down at him, a lighting of black in her pupils swims quickly back into brown again. "So… I hope this answers your question."
"I'm sorry about your Daniel," he says, weaving his fingers between hers. "Thank you for telling me, darling."
"Yes, well, it's been decades since then," she smiles just slightly. "And Gabriel and I have hated each other since then. I bet she'd be thrilled if she found out about us."
"She won't," he promises. "Now come down here, lay down for a moment."
She tilts her head, but shrugs, and slides down next to him. He's still on his stomach, his wings half-folded behind him, and he sees her hand lift.
"May I?" she asks, and if he didn't know her, he'd say she sounds almost timid.
"Yeah, sure," he smiles, but her fingers freeze mid-air.
"I won't… burn, will I?"
"Only one way to find out."
Her touch on his wing is so gentle he almost doesn't feel it. "Didn't you touch them already when you brought me downstairs, when I was unconscious?"
"No," she whispers. "I sort of carried you on my back, on my shoulder, so no, I didn't." Her hand strokes lightly, once, twice. "I… I'd forgotten…"
She pauses. He prompts her to go on, softly. "You'd forgotten… what?"
"How beautiful they were," she says. "I lost them so many years ago."
.:.
The car ride towards her destination is quite short, just a couple of towns over, and Belle gets there in no time. She's nervous, truth be told – it's not the first time she visits this place, has been here multiple times already. But today, it's the first time she comes here with a secret. And it's not her secret to tell, it's Robin's – and Regina's, she supposes. It will be hard, to behave naturally, because she knows her… new friend is particularly good at reading her, in a way that's almost disconcerting.
She dismounts the rented car and walks towards the shop, thinks that anyway she's here so often she could just look into apartments and into buying a car.
A small bell rings from above the door, when she pushes it open. It's a faint sound, but it immediately alerts who's behind the counter – he turns slowly, a smile spreads on his lips.
"Ah, Seraphiel – welcome back," Mr Gold says. "Always a pleasure to see my secret business partner."
Belle rolls her eyes, but greets him back. "Right back at you, Belzebub. Shall we get started?"