Regina hadn't reamed him as much as he thought she would have when he explained where he had been, after finally climbing into bed at two in the morning, she had understood why he had done it, but had stopped him when he had gone to get back up to look through the envelope which was still left in the kitchen, and forced him to get some sleep.

The next morning the family settled into their usual routine, Regina and Robin woke early, Robin took his usual jog (he was getting older and needed to stay in shape after all), when he came home Regina was dressed and readying herself for work, Margot was already awake and playing, he shepherd his only daughter upstairs to get dressed for school, he woke up his sons before taking a shower himself.

David was the last one downstairs, having refused Robin's usual offer of help getting dressed, the other kids were also dressed and already digging into their breakfast, he joined them, Regina giving him a look when he tried to steal Robin's coffee, he ended up with a juice instead.

David rode with Robin as they took the kids to their schools while Regina went to work. The car rides with Robin were getting easier, though he did have to keep his breathing calm whenever Robin had to break suddenly, all the while Robin was thinking about the envelope.

Robin only managed to get to be in the kitchen alone later that day, he had helped homeschool David before encouraging him to take a nap, an hour later when he was certain David would be fast asleep Robin walked to the kitchen, reached into the mail cubby, pulled out the heavy, brown, A4 sized envelope.

Robin leant against the kitchen island and placed the envelope down. He stared at it, his fingers drumming on the countertop, 'Mallory', was written in loopy blue writing. Ruth's writing. He had such complicated feelings for this woman he had never met; the woman who had both damaged his son and brought him up, she was both parts of the good and the bad inside him, her life and her death.

"Fuck it." He whispered under his breath, he picked up the envelope and opened up the unsealed end. He reached inside tentatively, as though expecting a miniature alligator to be lurking inside, instead his fingers brushed against glossy photo paper, a whole pile of them by the feeling of it.

He pulled them out and undid the elastic band before finally turning them over.

The first photograph was of a very small looking baby, wrapped in a towel with one of those hats newborns were given in hospital, Robin placed the rest of the pile on the counter so he could more carefully examine what he assumed to be David's first photograph, sure enough, like he had suspected, it was taken inside of a hospital. Mal had taken it, he realised. He wondered if she had taken it for herself, or for Ruth, or if maybe, just maybe, she had planned to send it to him. David looked so small, Mal had said he was born early when they had talked the night before, but Robin could imagine being there, being too scared to hold his son at first, then once he had he wouldn't have been able to put him down.

It took him minutes to tear his eyes away from his son's face to the teddy in the top right corner of the crib. It was a small Winnie The Pooh Steiff teddy, one of a pair from his mother's collection, one she had insisted he give to Mal, the other to Regina, he had only done so because he loved his mother, and her extensive steiff bear collection was something of a joke in his friendship group. Mal had given it to David, at least for the picture, she had given a little bit of him to their son. It should have been touching, it was touching, but it worked to strengthen the fact that she had chosen to hide David from him.

The next few photographs were from David's first year of life, mostly with Ruth and James, Ruth looked every inch the doting mother, and James, who was around a year or so older, was always beaming at David. He was clearly loved. There was even a photograph of the three of them and Robert, by the looks of it it was David's catholic baptism; all of them smiling as though they were a normal happy family. Robert looked normal, which only helped to unsettle Robert, there were no signs that he was violent, abusive, a criminal, he was just smiling proudly, the father of two sons, a blue collar man working hard to put money in their pockets to give the boys a future.

As he made his way through the pile David got older and older, he started to look more like the teenager Robin was familiar with. His hair grew into curls, white blonde, a mischievous and wild smile. Regina had told him so often that David had looked like him when he was a teenager, but now he was finally forced to admit the resemblance, a three year old David looked the spitting image of Robin when he had been that age, down to the same shaped smile.

The older David got the less Robin was able to smile, David was smiling less, he was grubbier, most of the pictures he was as close to Ruth or James as he could get, more than a handful of them contained a messy house in the background, and Robin lost count of the amount of photographs with drug paraphernalia and alcohol in the background. Robin could swear he could see bruises in some of the pictures. He was probably three or four when the next picture of the family of four appeared, a knitted sweater clad David in Ruth's arms, the familiar tense hold of David's shoulders where Robert touched him.

There was a photograph of David with a sign in the same loopy writing from the envelope, announcing his first day at kindergarten, according to the dates on the sign David wasn't far off of six, but Robin now knew that was wrong, he was barely five, and he looked it.

There were only some photographs now, some where clearly taken by David and James, some by Ruth or someone else, David had lost his smile in most of them, and the injuries on the boys and Ruth were clearer, the Winnie the Pooh had been in all the pictures, worn with time even as he reached the last photograph. It was harrowing seeing David, he was bruised and battered, he looked like a photograph from world war one of a soldier with shell shock, the bright red cast on his arm was covered in drawings in David's own hand.

That was it, no more photographs, the last must have been just before they ran away from Robert. David had looked so young still, he had been around the age Roland was now but he looked so small, underweight, scared. Robin couldn't help but shed a few tears, it took a lot of perseverance to finally tear his eyes away from the injured child in the photographs, aware there was more in the envelope to look at.

The next things he drew out of the envelope returned the smile to his face, pages and pages of David's artwork, held together with a baby blue paperclip. Like the photographs Ruth had clearly taken care to arrange the drawings and paintings chronologically, yet Mal had barely glanced at them, he could kill her. He watched as the art went from what were clearly just scribbles to shapes he was fairly certain were people (mostly because Ruth had labelled them for him), to drawings and paintings which were clearly by an older and older David, still a child's drawing but they were really good, he didn't want to compare his kids but David seemed to have gotten the artistic gene. The older he got the more imaginative the pictures became, and the more often David's childish writing told a story on the page, Robin was completely enthralled. On the back of every single piece of paper was David's name, the date, and what he had drawn. He felt a swirl of emotions again, he felt bad for thinking so badly of Ruth she must have tried a little... but then did her saving some of his memories make up for the abuse she was powerless to protect him from?

There were several birthday cards some were from people he hadn't the foggiest who they were, they must have been important to Ruth for her to keep them for David, he made a mental note to take note of them and try to find out.

Regina hadn't reamed him as much as he thought she would have when he explained where he had been, after finally climbing into bed at two in the morning, she had understood why he had done it, but had stopped him when he had gone to get back up to look through the envelope which was still left in the kitchen, and forced him to get some sleep.

The next morning the family settled into their usual routine, Regina and Robin woke early, Robin took his usual jog (he was getting older and needed to stay in shape after all), when he came home Regina was dressed and readying herself for work, Margot was already awake and playing, he shepherd his only daughter upstairs to get dressed for school, he woke up his sons before taking a shower himself.

David was the last one downstairs, having refused Robin's usual offer of help getting dressed, the other kids were also dressed and already digging into their breakfast, he joined them, Regina giving him a look when he tried to steal Robin's coffee, he ended up with a juice instead.

David rode with Robin as they took the kids to their schools while Regina went to work. The car rides with Robin were getting easier, though he did have to keep his breathing calm whenever Robin had to break suddenly, all the while Robin was thinking about the envelope.

Robin only managed to get to be in the kitchen alone later that day, he had helped homeschool David before encouraging him to take a nap, an hour later when he was certain David would be fast asleep Robin walked to the kitchen, reached into the mail cubby, pulled out the heavy, brown, A4 sized envelope.

Robin leant against the kitchen island and placed the envelope down. He stared at it, his fingers drumming on the countertop, 'Mallory', was written in loopy blue writing. Ruth's writing. He had such complicated feelings for this woman he had never met; the woman who had both damaged his son and brought him up, she was both parts of the good and the bad inside him, her life and her death.

"Fuck it." He whispered under his breath, he picked up the envelope and opened up the unsealed end. He reached inside tentatively, as though expecting a miniature alligator to be lurking inside, instead his fingers brushed against glossy photo paper, a whole pile of them by the feeling of it.

He pulled them out and undid the elastic band before finally turning them over.

The first photograph was of a very small looking baby, wrapped in a towel with one of those hats newborns were given in hospital, Robin placed the rest of the pile on the counter so he could more carefully examine what he assumed to be David's first photograph, sure enough, like he had suspected, it was taken inside of a hospital. Mal had taken it, he realised. He wondered if she had taken it for herself, or for Ruth, or if maybe, just maybe, she had planned to send it to him. David looked so small, Mal had said he was born early when they had talked the night before, but Robin could imagine being there, being too scared to hold his son at first, then once he had he wouldn't have been able to put him down.

It took him minutes to tear his eyes away from his son's face to the teddy in the top right corner of the crib. It was a small Winnie The Pooh Steiff teddy, one of a pair from his mother's collection, one she had insisted he give to Mal, the other to Regina, he had only done so because he loved his mother, and her extensive steiff bear collection was something of a joke in his friendship group. Mal had given it to David, at least for the picture, she had given a little bit of him to their son. It should have been touching, it was touching, but it worked to strengthen the fact that she had chosen to hide David from him.

The next few photographs were from David's first year of life, mostly with Ruth and James, Ruth looked every inch the doting mother, and James, who was around a year or so older, was always beaming at David. He was clearly loved. There was even a photograph of the three of them and Robert, by the looks of it it was David's catholic baptism; all of them smiling as though they were a normal happy family. Robert looked normal, which only helped to unsettle Robert, there were no signs that he was violent, abusive, a criminal, he was just smiling proudly, the father of two sons, a blue collar man working hard to put money in their pockets to give the boys a future.

As he made his way through the pile David got older and older, he started to look more like the teenager Robin was familiar with. His hair grew into curls, white blonde, a mischievous and wild smile. Regina had told him so often that David had looked like him when he was a teenager, but now he was finally forced to admit the resemblance, a three year old David looked the spitting image of Robin when he had been that age, down to the same shaped smile.

The older David got the less Robin was able to smile, David was smiling less, he was grubbier, most of the pictures he was as close to Ruth or James as he could get, more than a handful of them contained a messy house in the background, and Robin lost count of the amount of photographs with drug paraphernalia and alcohol in the background. Robin could swear he could see bruises in some of the pictures. He was probably three or four when the next picture of the family of four appeared, a knitted sweater clad David in Ruth's arms, the familiar tense hold of David's shoulders where Robert touched him.

There was a photograph of David with a sign in the same loopy writing from the envelope, announcing his first day at kindergarten, according to the dates on the sign David wasn't far off of six, but Robin now knew that was wrong, he was barely five, and he looked it.

There were only some photographs now, some where clearly taken by David and James, some by Ruth or someone else, David had lost his smile in most of them, and the injuries on the boys and Ruth were clearer, the Winnie the Pooh had been in all the pictures, worn with time even as he reached the last photograph. It was harrowing seeing David, he was bruised and battered, he looked like a photograph from world war one of a soldier with shellshock, the bright red cast on his arm was covered in drawings in David's own hand.

That was it, no more photographs, the last must have been just before they ran away from Robert. David had looked so young still, he had been around the age Roland was now but he looked so small, underweight, scared. Robin couldn't help but shed a few tears, it took a lot of perseverance to finally tear his eyes away from the injured child in the photographs, aware there was more in the envelope to look at.

The next things he drew out of the envelope returned the smile to his face, pages and pages of David's artwork, held together with a baby blue paperclip. Like the photographs Ruth had clearly taken care to arrange the drawings and paintings chronologically, yet Mal had barely glanced at them, he could kill her. He watched as the art went from what were clearly just scribbles to shapes he was fairly certain were people (mostly because Ruth had labelled them for him), to drawings and paintings which were clearly by an older and older David, still a child's drawing but they were really good, he didn't want to compare his kids but David seemed to have gotten the artistic gene. The older he got the more imaginative the pictures became, and the more often David's childish writing told a story on the page, Robin was completely enthralled. On the back of every single piece of paper was David's name, the date, and what he had drawn. He felt a swirl of emotions again, he felt bad for thinking so badly of Ruth she must have tried a little... but then did her saving some of his memories make up for the abuse she was powerless to protect him from?

There were several birthday cards some were from people he hadn't the foggiest who they were, they must have been important to Ruth for her to keep them for David, he made a mental note to take note of them and try to find out.

There were some school reports, all stating that David was a caring and compassionate boy with an inability to sit still and concentrate and a worryingly low attendance, the teachers notes begged 'David's parents' to come in to discuss his behaviour, the last one outright pointed out that they had refused to have him tested for ADHD which was 'severely affecting him', in fact the comment seemed to imply social services would soon be involved. Robin frowned, the date on the last school report must have been the same year Ruth ran, the year of that photograph of David. Robin had a sinking feeling that the injuries had been because of the school report.

A hospital band, cut off with scissors but it was still clear how small it had been. 'Baby De Vane' was written in a nurse's handwriting followed by a long number which Robin assumed was a hospital code, the birth date 22/04/05 and a time 20:30. It should have been one of the most important times and dates in his life but he couldn't even remember what he was doing, or where he was. He was about to place it onto the counter along the rest of the things he had been placing down when something on the band caught his eye; the brand on the band, the hospital logo, Hyperion Memorial Hospital, the city next to theirs the city he worked and taught in, so close to home. He couldn't even be sure, without checking, that he was in Storybrooke at that time, he might have taken a vacation, or been visiting his home country, or his father. For everything he learnt about David the more he felt that he didn't know.

The envelope was much lighter now, only three things left, he pulled out two crisp white envelopes, letter sized, one had the name 'David R.' the other, much to his surprise, had his own name 'Robin Locksley-Mills' which meant not only had Ruth known his name but had known about him after he had married. She had known he had a stable life, that he could have taken David, he should have taken David.

He peeked inside the envelope before pulling out what he first assumed was the last of his son's pictures, it was only when it was out of the envelope that he realised it was card, he turned it over and came face to face with the souvenir certificate Mallory had told him about the night before, he had almost forgotten about it.

He sucked in a breath. The air stung his lungs.

This certifies that David Robin Locksley De Vane was born to Mallory Jayne de Vane and Robin Christopher Locksley, at the Hyperion Memorial Hospital, at 8:32 PM, on Friday the 22nd of April 2005.
Sex of child: Male.
Weight at birth: 5 pounds 3 ounces.
Length at birth: 14.5 inches.
City of Hyperion, in the state of Maine.
Attending physician Dr Andrew Wyatt.

Robin read, then re-read, then re-read it all, but his eyes were drawn back each time to his son's name. He had seen the initial R for David's name numerous times, he had just assumed it was Robert, that Ruth had named him and needed Robert to believe he was his. Robin had never thought, never dreamed, that Mal had given David a name at all, let alone had given their son his names.

"Can I get a snack?"

Robin startled hearing David's voice, how long had he been staring at the certificate? He watched David's amused smirk at watching him jump fade as he surveyed the organised chaos on the kitchen island.

"What's… That's the envelope, the one Mallory gave to you…" David slowly realised, memories played in his head as he tried to force his sleep addled mind to compute. "The one Ruth gave her before we ran…"

His eyes darted over the photographs and pictures, the other paper things, some looked familiar, most did not, until eventually his blue eyes landed on the piece of fancy card in Robin's hand. The shape, the way Robin was looking at him and at him, the rest of the things Ruth had given Mal drew him to one conclusion.
"Is that my birth certificate?"

Robin nodded. Silence. He was unable to talk, he sucked in another gulp of air, forced himself into motion. "Your middle name."

David stiffened. A sick resignation sunk into his stomach and wrapped a hand around his throat. "It's his, isn't it? It's Robert. Ruth never let me use it, when we were using our real names she always just wrote 'David R', she got mad if I tried to use it, but it's the same as James' as the baby Ruth lost."

Robin shook his head silencing David with his own silence. He bit his lip, he needed to speak, he was freaking David out, he could tell he was freaking David out, but he just couldn't. He placed it upright on the counter and slid it across the counter until it was in front of David.

He watched as David read the certificate; once, twice, three times, until it finally sank in. He waited to see if David was going to say anything.

When he didn't Robin picked up the envelope addressed to himself and walked from the kitchen. David needed time to process it, to think it through without Robin looming over him.

Robin needed time to process it too.

David didn't look up when Robin left the kitchen, but he had heard him, even if he hadn't heard him he would have known, when Robin left he took the life from the kitchen with him. He was met with a childish urge to follow him, the same way he would try to follow his mother around even if she was in one of her bad moods.

But he couldn't move, he felt literally frozen, clinging to the island to hold him upright, his eyes and brain on the certificate.

Just as he had expected the date on the birth certificate was different from the one he had grown up believing, Ruth had given him her baby's birthday, he was just a replacement. The real him had never mattered, not even to her.

He sucked in a shaky breath, he couldn't think about that, he couldn't, he needed to stop the thought from ricocheting around his skull. Something else, he needed something else, he was younger than he thought he was, he was a replacement, half a year younger, Robin had walked out, a considerable age difference, he was a replacement, it made sense he had only just began to grow and fill out.

His name. The fact of his name. It stilled his mind, muting the screaming thought, it was something he could focus on.

Mal had given him his name.

She wanted nothing to do with him. She didn't want to talk to him, to see him. But she had given him the name David.

How had she chosen it? Why had she chosen it? Had it been her choice? Had Ruth told her she wanted to name a baby that? It couldn't have been. He was Ruth's baby's replacement, he hadn't been named David, he was William, if Ruth had named him she would have called him William Robert Nolan. She had kept the name Mallory de Vane had given him, his biological mother, his adoptive aunt, the stranger who had kept him safe for nine months.

That wasn't the main thing which stilled him though, of course it wasn't the main thing, it was the words he couldn't look away from. 'David Robin Locksley de Vane'.

The R stood for Robin.

He had inherited his father's name the same way his brother had inherited his father's name.

It was the clear proof on the page in black and white that Robin was his father, no wonder he walked out, now he was stuck with David.

He ran his hand through his mussed up hair, messy from a nap and now made even messier, it wasn't true, it didn't make sense, he knew that, he knew that Robin already knew David was his son. He had told him it, that he was his son, that he loved him, before all this, before the certificate; nothing he said even hinted at, suggested, that Robin hadn't believed David was his son - the exact opposite in fact, but the thought took place of the previous one, rebounding in his skull, seeping into any cracks in his belief.

He dropped the certificate back onto the counter. Even as he walked back upstairs to his room, his snack unfetched and uneaten, the image of the words had burned into the back of his eyelids.

He was a replacement.

Robin was stuck with him.

David had only come down from his room when Robin had shouted him down, not to talk, but because it was time for them to leave to go to David's first annual therapy appointment.

Their car ride had been in a tense silence, David had taken a seat in the back, it had made memories of the crash harder to ignore, but it was more achievable than having to sit next to Robin, he didn't think he could cope with that. All he had to do was focus on breathing, in and out, slowly, carefully, deliberately.

He just had to get through this ride, these steps, the wait to go into the office, he just had to wait to be called in, wait out the session, wait out the day, wait. Just wait.

Archie appeared like a ray of light in the dreary waiting room, with his fiery hair and electric attitude, he invited David inside. David could do this.

"You don't have to wait for me." He mumbled, struggling to his feet, Robin's arms were outstretched ready to steady him, if need be. "I can meet you by your car when I'm done."

Robin frowned even though David wasn't looking at him. "I'm staying here. I'm waiting for you."

David walked into the shrink's office without acknowledging Robin.

"I'm glad to see you here again, David."

"I didn't really have much of a choice." But David's snark was without heat.

"Still." Archie smiled, taking in David slummed in the armchair. "Would you like a drink? Orange or apple juice, iced tea, water, milk?"

"Juice, please. Orange."

The two of them settled into their seats and Archie waited, giving David the opportunity to begin. When he didn't Archie did. "How has your day been?"

David hesitated. He remembered his conversation with Regina, he remembered her promise that once this was over he didn't have to see the shrink again, he just had to get it over with, and he was fairly certain that if he didn't talk he would be forced to attend these sessions for longer, Dr Hopper would be certain he was hiding things, he'd presume the worst and David would never be free.
He took a sip from his bottle of juice. "Not… not the best."

Archie tried to hide the signs of his own surprise that David had given him an honest answer. "What happened?"

So David talked. He filled him in on everything he knew, about the envelope he had seen being passed from Ruth to Mal to Robin, then to earlier, seeing Robin stood with the photographs, the pictures, the school reports, and the certificate. The certificate. That was what he talked about most, he started with his birthday being different, then slipped back to the photograph of the pregnant Ruth, then back to the certificate, that he was from here, or the next city over anyway, where Robin and Regina both work. He told Archie that Mallory had named him when he was born, and that Ruth had kept it, that Robin's name was his middle name, that Ruth knew it but let him believe it was Robert like James' was. That Mallory wrote his surname as 'Locksley de Vane', Robin and her names together to form his, even though she knew he wouldn't be keeping it, she couldn't even guarantee that he would keep 'David', or 'Robin'.

Archie was silent as he spoke, giving him time to say out loud everything he needed to without interruption, letting him drift away from points and back to them again, watching him rub the back of his neck in a self soothing gesture.

"It sounds like your biological mother, Mallory, must have really loved you, in her own way. It sounds like she wanted you to have something of her and your father, that she wanted the best for you, even if she couldn't give it to you herself."

"If she had wanted that then she should have given me to Robin." David's voice came out raw and he looked down at his knees so Archie wouldn't see the tears. "She didn't have to say anything to him, she could have just left me on his doorstep with a note, then never seen me again."

Archie watched him for a minute, before plucking a tissue from the box on the table closest to him, plucking one and passing it to David. "What did Robin say?"

"When?"

"When the two of you saw your birth certificate."

David balled up the tissue in his hand, clenching his teeth, then swallowed deeply. "Nothing." He continued to look at his knees but when Robin said nothing David looked back up. He was being given that look again, the patient, non judgemental blank look, Archie was waiting. David rolled his eyes ever so slightly. "I walked in, he passed it to me, he didn't say anything, I didn't say anything, he walked away, when he didn't come back I walked to my room."

Archie Hopper shut the notebook he had been jotting notes in, his pen was between the pages holding his place, but the look on his face was ensuring that David had no doubt that he was invested in his next answer. "And why do you think Robin walked away from you?"

"I don't know..." David shrugged. He took a sip of his juice, he breathed, in, out, then took a deep breath. "I know, I know that he- well he says he loves me, and I don't think he's lying, but… I just…" He trailed off shaking his head as his fingers clung to the back of his neck.

"It's okay, David." His voice was low yet sturdy. "Just say what you're thinking. I'm not going to judge you, you don't have to worry about upsetting anyone, it's just you and me. I will never tell your father anything without your permission."

David locked eyes with him, evaluated, believed him. "It was proof to him that he is my dad."

"And how do you think that made him feel?"

"Who am I Professor X?" He rolled his eyes when Archie looked confused, there was no way he was as young he looked, it was impossible. "Shock?"

Archie nodded slowly. "But he already knew that he was your father. In order for you to be allowed to live with him there will have been confirmed tests. A DNA swab? Or perhaps a blood test while you were in the hospital in Pittsburgh?"

"I… I guess, yeah. I don't really remember much from then."

"Understandably. Has your father said or done anything which has made you think he doubts that you're his son?"

David hesitated before shaking his head. "He," David shrugged, "keeps making sure that I know he, y'know… he keep telling me it." He bit his lip and felt tears stir in his eyes, he didn't know why, he scrubbed them away with the heel of his palm. "I know it's stupid, that it doesn't make sense, but I just can't stop thinking it."

"You've gone through a lot of turmoil, everything you once perceived to be the truth has been turned upside down, it's only natural to be doubting things in your life- especially those things which rely on you having to trust other people. It's not stupid." He handed over another tissue and waited when David had to fight back tears again. "Why else do you think Robin might have walked out of the room?"

"I dunno."

"Take your time, think about why you might have done the same if you had been him."

"I guess, maybe, he needed to think things through, he needed time and space, maybe? It's what I would have done."

"Perhaps you and your father are more alike than you think. The only way to find out for certain is to ask him yourself."

"... What if I was right the first time?"

"Then you still need to find that out so you can move past it." He waited until David slowly nodded to open up his notebook again, jotted some notes down, he let David take a breather before continuing onto his next point. "You have the funeral next week, don't you?" David nodded, no longer looking at him. "Are you ready for it?"

"I'm getting a suit on Saturday, Robin's taking me to some place, he says I need a proper one we can't just order it."

"It'll be helpful to have something ready in case you're suddenly in need of a suit though. How about emotionally, are you prepared?"

"Is anyone?"

"That's a good point." He didn't point out that David hadn't answered his question. "Have you had much input in planning the funeral?"

David shook his head. "I don't even know what's going to be said, she didn't know Ruth or James, not really, no one did." Not even me, he finished in his head.

"Would you like to speak at the funeral?"

David hesitated before shaking his head. "Funerals are meant to be for people; memories and stuff, to share with other people about the person who died. I don't know anyone who'll be there, even if there will be any other people there, James and Ruth are gone. There's no one there who needs to hear me speak."

"That's a nuanced way of thinking about funerals. And I think that you're right, but I also believe that funerals are about working through your own grief, perhaps you need to hear you speak." He quickly realised that David wasn't about to agree to that. "Have you thought about holding your own memorial service? Just you, your father, step-mother, younger siblings. You could go somewhere peaceful or somewhere which meant a lot to the three of you, you could share your memories of your mother and brother with them; what they were like, their lives from your point of view, your feelings revolving around the crash, around Ruth and James."

David hesitated again but at least looked more open to this suggestion. He met Archie's eyes, looking uncertain and unguarded. "Is there…?" He shook his head then forced himself to continue. "Is there like a time period I have to have one of those by? I don't know what I'd say… I think I still have some things I need to figure out first."

"You can take as long as you need: days, weeks, months, years if need be. Don't try and rush yourself during this, it's a process, one which is different for everyone. There are a lot of things you need to figure out, but you can't rush it, you need to put your mental health first, and you need to have a support system to rely on during this. Everything that has happened to you, especially recently, is going to be nearly impossible to work through if you don't rely upon the support of all of us offering it to you."

David thought about the photograph of the pregnant version of his mother, the baby who should have had his life, the fact that he was a replacement, that he didn't know who he was anymore, then nodded his head.

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about? Anything bothering you? Anything you just need to vent about?"

David thought about being in Robin's office, nearly destroying his phone, and along with it any photographs or memories of James and Ruth, of watching it happen locked inside of himself, the anger, the guilt afterward, clinging to Robin's arms, crying, the thoughts bouncing around his head as he tried to sleep last night, about his fear it would happen again, that there was something wrong with him. But he was overreacting. He would be fine, he just had to persevere, he just had to keep breathing in and out. It was just remnants from the car crash, he would be better soon, he would be fixed.
He shook his head. "No. Nothing."

Archie's eyes ever so slightly but he chose not to challenge David. "Okay then. How about for the rest of the session we work on the methods we worked on last week to help ease anxiety attacks? I would like your permission to talk to your father, I won't tell him in detail what we've discussed only tell him how you're already progressing, and the methods we're working on, that way should something happen he'll have a better understanding of how to help."

David quickly ran through their session in his head, he hadn't said anything too deep, he hadn't told him too much, let too much slip. "I guess. Are you going to tell him that we talked about him? The kitchen and that certificate?"

"I wasn't planning on, I was going to give that to you as homework, if you would like I can tell him that we discussed it and that you're wanting to talk more about it with him, so he won't react in shock?"

David bit the inside of his cheek then nodded sheepishly. He tried his best to plaster a smile onto his face. "I get homework at therapy?"

Archie chuckled. "Sorry."

David was surprised when Robin pulled up outside a diner with a neon sign announcing 'Granny's Diner', it looked like the exact sort of diner he had seen in old movies, slightly more picturesque than the greasy spoons he was used to frequenting.

He looked across at Robin who gave him a sheepish smile. "What-?"

"I should have made sure you had lunch before therapy, sorry. I thought you might like to try here, they do good food, or we can just get take out?"

David saw the olive branch being held out to him, he matched Robin's sheepish smile. "Here sounds good. Regina mentioned this place."

Robin let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I think her mother would turn in her grave if she saw her coming to a place like this." He unbuckled his belt and reached for the door handle.

"Her mom's dead?"

"Nope."

David couldn't help but laugh at Robin's flippant tone.

Once in the diner they settled into a booth.

David used to love sitting in booths when he was younger, he didn't know why, it just seemed fun, like something in Grease or something. Granny's was probably the best thing David had seen in the town, sure he hadn't seen much beyond his home, the hospital, and his therapist's office, but still. It was totally retro, with the red viynl booths, the jukebox, the way the old lady behind the counter called a hello to them as Robin led the way to the booth.

He wasn't sure if the place was made better because he was so hungry or because it simply was that good. He opened the somewhat sticky menu, he chose the safe option of a cheeseburger, something he could never go wrong with, over the years it had become the tester in new places. He put in his order with a side of curly fries and a cookies and cream milkshake, and looked around as Robin put his order in.

A group of teenagers around his age had entered behind them, all but one carried large backpacks, they were all laughing and joking, clearly on a lunchbreak from school, they looked so untroubled and carefree. How he envied them, how he questioned if he was even the same species as them anymore, if he had ever been. He felt eyes on him and realised he had been staring, the sorter of the two girls in the group smiled at him, as though he hadn't just been staring like a weirdo, he found his lips twitch up into a smile in return. He quickly came back to himself, realised he was staring at a stranger, he looked back across the booth at Robin instead, swallowing away his embarrassment.

"I should have stuck around in the kitchen when you saw the birth certificate."

"What?" David asked, struck dumb by Robin's blurted regret.

"Doctor Hopper said that you were confused about why I had left you in the kitchen, I didn't …- I've been thinking about it since he told me, I've been trying to figure out…" He ran his hand through his hair messing it out of its usual style. "I thought that you needed some time to take it in the certificate, that it wouldn't help me standing over you, rushing you. I didn't realise it might have been the wrong choice until I came back to the kitchen and you weren't there, I should have checked on you, but I thought that you might still need some space. It was only when Archie brought it up that I knew I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

David wasn't used to getting apologises like this, in his family, his old family things weren't discussed, they were just moved on from them, whether he wanted to or not. He shifted where he sat, he could feel rather than hear the vinyl squeak as he moved around his weight. "Did Archie tell you what I said?"

"No. No, he didn't, Sunshine, I swear. He just told me that it had big effected you, that you were planning on speaking to me about it but you might need a little encouragement."

David looked back at the teenagers now sat at the counter, the girl who had caught his eye was holding her side and wincing a little, her friend (the loud one with the red streaks) looked worried, the girl wasted no time shrugging off the pained look and her friend's worry, just like that she was back to normal, David looked back at Robin. "I thought that you walked off because she, she wrote those names and it was like proof to you, that you're stuck with me - I know it's stupid, I knew even before I talked to Archie, but I just couldn't stop thinking it. I'm sorry I overreacted." His eyes fell onto the scuffed table.

Robin's composure fell, he reached across the table, took hold of David's hand and squeezed until David met his eyes. "I'm not stuck with you. You're my kid, I want you around, you're not some burden David." His blue eyes stared into his son's matching pair until they soften and Robin was certain that his words had sunk in, at least for the time being. He let go of his hand but continued the eye contact. "You didn't overreact, I shouldn't have assumed what you needed, I should have tried to talk to you before therapy. I've been a dad for over ten years, but I don't know how to be your dad yet, if you're willing to give me a little time I promise I'll learn."

David's smile turned sheepish with embarrassment of the honest talk. "Okay. I'm not used to all this, talking about everything, feelings."

Robin chuckled. "Neither was I when I was your age, it's hard to break the habits, but it's worth it."

The waitress dropped off his milkshake and burger and the ribs Robin had ordered and they both dug in.

God. This food was heaven, the cheese melted perfectly, the curly fries were spicy but so good, he had already wolfed down half his burger when a thought struck him, James would have loved this place. He felt sick. He placed his burger back down and began to pick at the fries.

Robin watched as David's mood shifted, he didn't know why but it was clear that something had happened in his head, he just had no idea what. "What's going on?"

"Huh?" He only received a look from Robin in return. "I just… James would have loved this place."

"Yeah?"

David nodded. "Yeah, we ate in placed like this a lot, they're fast, cheap, anonymous." He didn't mention all the times they dined and dashed in places like this, he didn't want Robin to know about that side of him. "Do you come here a lot?" He asked changing the subject. "The lady over there seemed to know you." He nodded his head towards the old lady who was talking to the teens at the counter.

"I used to come here when I was your age, it's been the sort of 'go to' place for teenagers since it opened, I think. Regina introduced me to it on my first day at school, by the time I left here I had eight new friends and finally felt at home in this country. Regina loved it because her mother wouldn't be caught dead here, it gave her some freedom, it's a special place for our family."

David found himself smiling, the love Robin had for Regina was clear, he wasn't used to seeing people like that, he tried to hide the smile, particularly when Robin said 'our family', the way he said it made it clear that he was included. "I doubt I'll make that many friends on my first day at school." He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck, what he really meant was he doubted he'd make any and had years of experience to back it up.

"I'm sure you'll make plenty, kid." Robin took a long sip from his glass of coke. "You'll have all the girls whooning when they see your pretty boy face. You get that from me."

David rolled his eyes at Robin's teasing. "I'm glad I didn't inherit how annoying you are."

"There's still time for those genes to kick in."

David rolled his eyes again but couldn't fight his smile. He busied himself by tucking into his burger once again. He didn't feel quite so sick now that his memory of his brother wasn't only locked in his mind, it was shared, just a shiver, but enough.

As they ate their lunch they made conversation, trying to bond in all the small ways which would one day, hopefully, add up to larger bonding.

Robin told David how he had talked to the school while David was in his appointment, he had talked to them about the tests David was supposed to have been taking, they had decided to take David for a few days sporadically over the next few weeks to assess where he was at in terms of schooling - it was agreed that after the crash his concentration issues made it too hard to only rely on timed tests to set his evaluation on.

David thanked him, mostly because he hated those tests, he couldn't help but wish he just didn't need to go to school at all. "What name will I be under?" He asked suddenly. "I mean I normally get a new name in a new school, it was usually David, if my mom didn't say we had to use pseudonyms." He saw the worried look appear on Robin's face, the one which the older man struggled to hide every time David said things about his past, if he only knew… David plastered on a smirk like smile, good humoured and easy to like. "As long as it's not Nolan I don't care what it is."

Robin shifted in his seat, he twirled his cup on the table, taking a deep breath in before smiling sheepishly. "Actually I spoke to your social worker, Sam, about it earlier. You were never actually registered, Mallory had you at the hospital but she gave you to Ruth before she actually registered your birth, I guess she thought Ruth would have done it."

"So… I just don't exist?"

"You do, it's just you've only been registered once they found all of this out… so a couple of days." Robin caught himself rubbing the back of his neck and realised that across the table David was mirroring him. "I guess Ruth had some people make documents to get you into your schools. It was decided you'd have my last name, Locksley-Mills, mostly for ease so we won't have to explain everything when people see we have different last names when we have to give them. You don't have to tell everyone it if you don't want to, you don't even have to keep it," he sucked in a small breath. "I hope you want to though, keep it, I mean."

David looked down at his plate. He gave a small shrug. "Sure, I mean, it's better than Nolan, or de Vane." He mumbled. He looked up and gave Robin a small smile. He was trying. They both were.