For OQ Prompt Party Wednesday (Day 3)
Prompt #228: Regina wearing Robin's sweater because she's cold and it's all she can find.
This story belongs in my TITANIC AU, which you can read here if you haven't yet. This is a sequel-ish glimpse into OQ after the events of that fic.
It's been years, and she still shivers at the mere memory of it.
Robin knows this, had been the one to calm her every nightmare during those first few months, when things seemed uncertain and Regina kept waking in the middle of the night, screaming for him and thinking him dead on the ice. He remembers how she'd run out of the apartment sometimes at the most ungodly hours, hurrying up to Ruby's penthouse just to make sure Henry was there. And most of all, he remembers the way she'd cry herself to sleep after, when she'd realize that her trauma was dictating her reality.
So when he suggests that they take a ferry ride around the Hudson, and she has what he can only describe as a panic attack at the mere idea of getting on a boat again, Robin supposes he should've known better. It's been almost four years now, but the residual fear and weariness from that ill-fated day is still there.
He coaches her into breathing through her episode, holding her close while they sit on the couch and whispering reassuring things into her hair, until the panic subsides and she's cold and clammy and crying in the aftermath.
"I'm sorry," she sniffles.
"You've nothing to be sorry for. I should've seen it coming," he defends, but she's shaking her head at him.
"I know it's just the river, and that we'd be surrounded by land at all times, no icebergs, no transatlantic journey. But it still reminds me of our last time on the water and I just... it scares me."
"I know," he says, hugging her tighter. "I know. I'm sorry, I didn't think. We can do something else."
"No. No, you're right. I can't let it cripple me like this. I hate that it has this much power over me. I want to change that."
"And you will, Regina," he insists. "Just not today. And that's okay. You need to take your time."
She sighs, nods, and it takes months before they broach the subject again, this time a bit more calmly. She accepts this time around, and they head to Battery Park together the day after.
They've left Roland with Ruby and Henry, so as not to disappoint the boy in case Regina decides she's not up to it after all. It helps take the pressure off, Robin thinks, and as it's just the two of them, he feels confident, feels like he can carry her through anything if she needs him to.
Oddly, their outing is a bit different for him. The view of the boat takes him back to happier times on the Titanic, rather than the traumatic experience that followed, takes him to moments where it was just them, falling for each other and discovering the strength and determination in Regina, discovering her wit and the sound of her laugh, the gorgeous skin under her dresses, the brightness of her smile... It strikes him that he associates his days on the Titanic with the tragedy itself, but with Regina, with the way she brought light into his life and chased away all the darkness, even through the worst parts of their trip.
She wobbles a little once they're on the ferry, gets a little impatient, and he starts to worry that she'll have a breakdown mid-journey. She looks like a caged animal, pacing what little space is available as people pile onto the boat, and he can hear her choppy breathing even over the incessant chatter of tourists and locals alike.
His hand finds hers when her hurried walk has her passing by him again, his eyes intent on hers as he says, "Come with me."
He pulls on that hand, leads her up to the third floor of the ferry, out into the open air. It's surprisingly chilly for May, so most people have remained inside, choosing to take in the view through the glass windows while enjoying the heat downstairs. This means that the top deck is mostly empty, with only a few over-eager tourists pointing at the Statue of Liberty and conversing excitedly.
Robin brings Regina to the other end of the boat, where the viewpoint shows only water and a sliver of land, a rather uninteresting spectacle compared to the monument and therefore a place less likely to be accosted by people if anyone else decides to come upstairs. The wind is blowing, and it feels invigorating. Seagulls fly above them, around them, the city itself bustling as it begins its sunny day. After a few more moments, the rumble of the engines starts, the anchor is raised, and off they go.
"It's windy," she remarks as they veer away from the pier.
"Do you want to go back down?" Robin asks.
"No," she answers immediately. "No, I... it helps. It was so still that night."
She's right about that, and Robin has read in the many reports of Titanic's disastrous maiden voyage that the lack of wind that night had been a factor in the whole thing. That if there had been waves crashing against the base of the iceberg, they might have spotted it in time.
But this line of thinking will not help today, so he hugs her from behind, holding her secure against the railing like he did two years ago as he implores, "Don't think about anything else. Just you and me."
He leans forward just in time to watch her close her eyes, his lips landing a chaste kiss on her cheek as he hugs her tighter, his hands now crossing over her waist, her back resting on his chest.
"It's just us," he whispers. "You've been haunted by the bad things too long, Regina. You need to remember the good parts, too. We are the good part. Remember when we did this there?"
She nods, a small smile forming, and her pulse seems to be coming back to normal, so he continues.
"When I think of... of that day, I don't think of what happened when we hit that iceberg," he starts, feeling her tense. Still, he pushes on. "I think of moments like this."
He moves his arms to hers, lifting them slightly as he keeps telling her, "I remember the first time I saw you, looking out at the water from that A-Deck balcony, angry and frustrated but so beautiful. I remember meeting you by the stern and thinking how stunning you were, how much I wanted to know you."
He feels her relaxing the smallest bit, and he takes it as a sign that it's working, and as the wind picks up, he speaks again.
"I remember drinking that Guinness with you, and you playing with Roland, letting him 'huggle' you until you smiled. I remember drawing you, and how nervous I was. I remember sneaking into the cargo bay so that that toad-looking lackey of Leopold's wouldn't catch us..."
She laughs at that, a slight chuckle that has her jolting a bit in his arms. He breathes out his relief, and even laughs a bit with her.
"I remember all the good things, Regina, and so should you. Despite everything, Titanic gave us each other," he finally says, kissing her cheek before he rests his chin on her shoulder to look out at the river as the ferry carries them in a loop around Liberty Island.
"You were blushing," she speaks into the wind, a smile carrying the words.
At his confused Hmm? she elaborates.
"When you drew me. You were blushing. I teased you about it."
"In French, if I remember correctly," Robin adds with a grin, hugging her to him a little tighter and planting a kiss in her hair.
"I remember thinking how extraordinary it was that I could make that happen," Regina explains. "That whole moment was... the single most liberating experience of my life."
"I quite enjoyed it, as well," he says, the sweet cinnamon scent of her hair taking him back to that very precious moment, when he'd stood behind her just like this, her body naked and gorgeous as he traced every inch of it in front of the mirror and told her just how beautiful she was.
"Oh, I remember," she says cheekily, pressing her rear back against his crotch for a short moment before turning in his arms, all flirtatiousness gone as she smiles whispers, "Thank you."
"I love you," he says, and she responds in kind, hugging him closer and kissing his neck.
When she turns back around to stare at the water, he begins to sway them from one side to the other, and he knows they probably look ridiculous to the few people who seem to have decided to come up and brave the cold after all. But she's breathing deeply in his grasp, taking in the view while the wind blows and drowns out the sound of everything else, even the seagulls that fly stubbornly around the deck looking for someone who'll feed them.
Softly, Robin begins to hum in her ear. It's their melody, that unknown tune that Will the musician had played for them onboard Titanic. A unique combination of sounds Robin has not been able to find in any musical repertoire. It must have been an original, something the young man wrote before boarding the ship, and it's a little sad that the world will never get to hear him play it, but it remains the song he and Regina dance to whenever they have a private moment, the melody that outlines the story of how they met and fell in love aboard the Ship of Dreams.
The sound has her leaning further back into him, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder once more, his cheek brushing hers while the boat moves along the Hudson, the view of the city a spectacular display of architecture and adventure. He loves New York, and in that moment, with its buildings and fast-paced life stretching ahead of him, Robin can't help but think of John. He would've loved it here, too.
She finds him at the rooftop of their building that night, looking out at the streets and lights of New York, her voice a welcome balm for his battered heart. He'd walked out for some air after putting the boys to bed, while she was in the shower and couldn't see him break under the weight of his grief.
Now, the sound of her steps is a relief as she approaches him, her hand landing on his shoulder as she waits for him to face her.
When he doesn't, she rounds on him, pushing at his jacket until it's off. Robin stares at her in confusion, watching as she shrugs it on and says, "I love you, I'll stay out here as long as you do. But it's cold, and I'm in my nightgown."
That makes him smile, his shoulders shaking slightly with the laughing exhale he gives her.
"So," she begins, looping her arms around his waist and looking up at him, a lock of hair falling over her eye. "I thought you said no thinking of the bad things."
"I'm sorry," he says then, pushing that lock back before mimicking her position. "I meant what I said on the boat. Every word, Regina."
"But?" she asks, and he gives her a humorless chuckle in answer.
"But... sometimes I just really miss him."
She smiles sadly at him, her hand cradling his cheek. Robin turns to kiss her palm, returns that melancholic grin as his hand moves up to wrap around her wrist, thumb rubbing over her skin.
Her face turns away from his, looking out at the city as she says softly, "He and Emma would've liked it here."
Robin hums his agreement, but adds, "Though John would've complained about the traffic, I'm sure."
"Oh, he would've found a way to make up for it," Regina teases, "like the garlic knots at that pizza place downtown."
Robin laughs in his agreement, and then he kisses her forehead, his own resting there right after, breathing her in and grounding himself in her.
"I'll never regret getting on that ship," he says, as he's said over and over again for years. "I just wish..."
"I know," Regina replies, and now both of her hands are holding his face, bringing him down to her. Robin goes willingly, meets her lips with his own and surrenders to that tingling sensation that always erupts in his chest when she kisses him.
Minutes of silence stretch between them when they part, his arms now around her shoulders while hers wrap around his waist and squeeze, the warmth of her body seeping into him even through the fabric of the jacket she's seen fit to steal.
And he's well aware that they'll never be rid of the scars caused by Titanic, by the amount of death, destruction and panic they saw there. But despite these moments of pain and desolation, as he holds her, feels her breathing and alive and loving him, Robin knows, he wouldn't trade her for the world.