I'm alive guys! I'm also not supposed to be typing any more than I have to, but I had to. It got in my head and wouldn't leave. Please forgive the (abundant I'm sure) errors as this was mostly done left-handed on my phone. Also, Robin's back! Well, Robin 2.0, but it was adorable and Regina go all gooey and I loved it. This is not the wish realm, but the aftershocks.

Wishes on Whims

Robin was furious, absolutely furious. What the hell had she been thinking? Well, that was abundantly clear. She hadn't been. Not for one god damn second did she think about where that fucking wish would send her. Or when for that matter. She could have been sucked back in time, or pulled forward, or simply blinked out of existence. So while he was eternally grateful that she was upstairs reading Dr. Seuss to his son, he was so frustrated that he wasn't sure he could even look her in the eye right now.

He doesn't hear her come into the kitchen. He's still reeling when she comes up behind him, wraps her arm around his torso and lets her forehead rest between his shoulder blades. Regina knows something is wrong when he doesn't move. If anything, he tenses further as she tightens her arms around him. By now his arms would have covered her own, his fingers would have tangled with hers and he would bring their joined hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles before spinning under her arm and kissing her lips. It was their routine. But tonight as Regina leans into him, her nose tickling from the fabric of his sweater, Robin only brings his drink to lips; his other hand keeps its white-knuckled grip on the counter's edge.

"I love you," her words are muffled against his back.

"Do you?" It's a low blow and he knows it, feels almost bad for saying it, but it's out and he finds that he doesn't want to take it back.

"Are you honestly questioning that?" Regina releases him and pulls at his arm until he turns to face her. "Robin, what's going on?"

She doesn't know. Really and truly has no idea why he's upset and that only enrages him further. "You really have no clue do you?" he says louder than he intends. "You don't' think you've done anything wrong?"

Her mouth hangs open; genuine shock on her face as she stares into his eyes. "Please. Talk to me." She takes his hand in hers, but he pulls it away.

"You're not alone anymore, Regina."

"I know that," she interrupts. Makes to say more: that she knows she has him, that she cherishes their family, that nothing would come between that. But the look on his face stops her. She stands quietly and lets him continue.

"You're not alone and you can't make decisions like they don't affect anyone but you. You made a wish without a thought that sent you to another realm with no protection and no idea how to get home. You allowed yourself to be transported to gods know where and you didn't even think of us! What about your son, your sons? What about that baby girl upstairs who won't go to sleep without your lullabye? For fucks sake, Regina, what about me? Everything we've been through, everything we've built? You don't get to choose to just throw that away so you can play the hero!" His voice rises with every word spoken until he's yelling in her face.

"I—" She steps closer to him, ready to fire back with equal intensity. No one speaks to her like that; after all she was the queen. But she can't; no words come as she stands close enough to feel his hot breath against her cheeks. Robin slams his drink on the counter, liquor sloshing out, but he leaves it spill, shakes it off his hand and leaves her in the kitchen.

She's trembling when the weight of his words fully seep into her soul. He's right. Gods dammit, he's right. "Oh my god," she whispers to the empty kitchen. Her tears fall silently as she wipes up the spilt whiskey. She takes the time to wash the glass, dry it, put it back in the cabinet with the others, before making her way upstairs. She peeks in on their daughter first, still blissfully asleep in her crib. Regina deftly straightens the blankets and runs her fingers through fiery red locks just starting to curl.

She creeps across the hall to Roland's room. His mouth is wide open, snoring loudly with his stuffed monkey stuffed securely in his arms. She re-covers him (knowing full well that he'll kick them off again before she's out of the room) and places a kiss to his forehead.

Her fingertips graze the door to Henry's room. He's with Emma tonight: his other mother that she just returned to him. But at what cost?

The lights are off when she enters their bedroom and she doesn't turn them back on. Robin under the covers, but he's not asleep; she can tell by the way he's breathing is still short and labored instead of the deep, steady cadence that calms her. "Is Emma alright?" he asks as Regina slips out of her dress and in to his t-shirt.

"She's fine," Regina answers as she slips into bed next to him.

"I'm glad." Because he is, even understands why Regina risked everything to go after their friend. He might have done the same if their roles were reversed, but he won't tell her that tonight.

"I know you are. Robin, I—" she wrings the blankets in her hands. For the second time this evening, Regina has no idea what to say. "I'm so sorry," she finally breathes out because nothing else is adequate. There's no excuse for what she did, for the risk she took.

Robin stays silent, but finds her hand in the dark and holds tight.

"I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking about anything but how I could fix this, how I could get Emma back. This is all my fault, everything that she's doing, it's my fault and I had to get Emma back. But you're right. It was stupid. I could've missed out on all of this." She raises their joined hands and lets them fall back to the bed. "I don't want to leave this. You know that, right? You know that I love you?"

"Or course I do." He brings their hands to lips, wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her against his chest. They stay like that, Regina finally letting her body relax when Robin's breathing evens out. She wakes to the sound of her daughter's hungry cries and Robin's sleepy chuckle into her hair.

"I got her," she assures, untangling her limbs from Robin's and heading down the hall. Ella quiets the minute she's in Regina's arms as she searches out the bottle she knows is coming. Regina never minds the 4 am feedings, never had with Henry either. She loves watching her children in the quiet hours of the morning. Like there is nothing wrong in the world, nothing outside of the rocking chair that matters. She doesn't look up until the bottle has been drained and Ella's eyes have slipped close again. When she returns the girl to her crib she looks up to see that Robin is leaning in the doorway, pajama clad, bare feet, hair sticking up at every angle, and dimples on full display.

"I love you," she walks to him and wraps her arms tightly around his waist. His arms surround her without hesitation.

"And I you," he kisses into her hair, as they make their way back to bed and the brief normalcy they're allowed.