Trigger: Mentions of miscarriage and alcoholism.

Robin detested funerals. He hadn't been to many, but once a person loses a parent, they take on a whole new meaning. He could still smell the overpowering floral perfume from one of the mourners from his dad's funeral. Robin was only 7 at the time, but he could remember seeing a lot of people crying a lot harder than his mother was. Carol was good about that, keeping her emotions intact. Robin could remember the old man from down the street, squeezing his shoulder and saying "You're the man of the house now." His mother immediately told him to disregard that.

His mother's funeral had been a lot quieter. He had been 17 when she died and any family they had left was overseas, unable to make it. With the little life insurance money his mom had left behind, he spread her ashes at her favorite park and let it be. The only person who had stuck by his side through all of it was Marian.

As Robin dressed Henry for the funeral, he couldn't help but think of the child that would've been. She would've been 10 years old that year and he constantly wondered what she would've been like. Would she have had his eyes or Marian's? Would his and Marian's relationship really have lasted?

At least Marian seemed to be doing better. They were on better terms and the last time they talked, she said that she was married and had adopted a child with her wife, a little boy they named Roland. Neither of them brought up the baby they had a lost. Robin never spoke of her, the only person he ever told was Neal and he knew that he told Emma.

Robin thought back to the night he had brought Regina on a date. He was so excited, a chance to move on. A chance to be happy again. Then halfway through dinner, Marian had started texting him. She was drunk, again. She kept asking for him to come over, to help her. Robin kept pointing out that she needed help and that he couldn't be the one to always bail her out. He had been so wrapped up in trying to not be wrapped up in his ex-wife, that by the time he noticed how pissed Regina was, it was too late. One thing lead to another and soon, they were having a volatile argument outside the restaurant.

Neal tried to convince him to explain what happened, but Robin knew it was pointless. Regina wouldn't want anything further to do with him. He had tried to apologize over the years, but she always walked away. He knew he couldn't blame her, but this wasn't a wedding shower or Henry's baptism. They were going to be raising this child, for better or worse.

First Robin had lost his child, then his wife followed by his career. Now he was a gym teacher/soccer coach, raising a baby that wasn't his with a woman who thought he was a jerk.

What had Neal been thinking?

The knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to find Regina standing there, wearing a little black dress and matching heels. The only bit of color were a strand of pearls that hung around her neck. Henry lit up when he saw her, just as he always did. Robin had tried to be there for him those first 10 months, but he had been busy. Now, he was trying to connect with this child, but it wasn't easy when she kept taking Henry from him.

"Are you ready?" She asked, softly.

No, he wasn't ready to bury his best friend and his best friend's wife. He was never going to be ready for that. But by the look in Regina's eyes, neither was she. He kept reminding himself that Regina had known them for far longer than he had. Even before Neal set them up on a date, he went on and on about Regina. A psychology major with a wicked sense of sarcasm, one who rarely ever cried. In that moment, she looked so vulnerable and he almost wanted to hug her again, then thought better of it.

"As I'll ever be." Robin lifted Henry into his arms and pressed a kiss to the baby's temple. "Mr. Gold is going to meet us at the church with Belle."

Regina shook her head. "I don't understand how a parent could go on after losing a child."

Robin didn't respond, he just squeezed her arm before grabbing the diaper bag and walking out of the nursery.