ATTENTION: THE AUTHOR IS POSTING THE LAST CHAPTER ON MAY 5. TO THANK ALL THOSE WHO HAVE READ HER STORY, SHE IS ALLOWING THE ENTIRE STORY TO BE PUBLISHED UNTIL MAY 22.

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BREAKFAST WAS INTENSE AND stressful, Regina thought. Amelia made something called fry-up, which she greatly ate along with her morning tea. Coffee seemed not to make an appearance in this house, at least so far. Glancing at Robin, she could see the grief, the stress. His back was hunched over his plate, he took delicate bites, not like him.

His face was pale, void of expression, if she looked in his eyes, she could see the grief and sadness.

Amelia spooned sugar in her tea, took a sip, and winked at her over the cup. "I thought we could take a drive to see your father," she said.

Robin put his fork down, sat back, "Alright." He picked up his plate, scraped the remaining almost-full meal in the trash, and set it in the sink. He walked out of the room without a backward glance.

"Thanks for breakfast, Amelia." She smiled and finished her plate and drank the remaining of her tea.

"You're welcome, dear." Standing, she picked up the plates on the table, "You should check on him."

"Did you think about what I asked last night?" Regina stood waited for a response.

"I did. I'll talk to his doctor and see if we can get you in. I can't thank you enough for trying to do this for him," she said tearfully. "Robby tried but he wasn't a match, it hurt him deeply."

"I know, he told me. You adopted him when he was six. So, any chances of him being compatible would've been purely coincidental."

Shock and surprise showed on her face, "He told you?" She stood gaping at her.

"Yes, he did. Why?"

Walking to her, Amelia took Regina's hand, "He's never told, anyone. He didn't tell Greta, dear. He doesn't talk about it. It must mean you are very special to him."

"He didn't tell me much, just that he was adopted. It came up when we were working on a case," she explained. "I don't know all of the story. I'm not sure he feels comfortable telling me yet."

"Oh, well," she said patting her hand. "He'll tell you when he's ready. Go, be with him. He's upset with me for not telling him."

"I think once he's had time to process it, he'll get over it. He loves you."

Amelia smiled, "I know. Go on, let me clean up." Just as she turned, Regina saw the sadness in her eyes. The guilt and the deep sorrow. She knew those feelings inside and out. Though, losing her father must be different than losing someone you love.

Regina walked slowly to the bedroom, leaned on the frame, and watched him. He'd pulled on jeans, she could see the tension in the muscles of his back. "She feels really bad, you might want to give her a break," she said softly.

His eyes darted to hers, "I don't blame her for keeping it from me." He grabbed an undershirt and pulled it on. "I just wish she'd have told me. If she'd told me, I'd have come sooner. She knew that."

"I'm sorry, Robin. I know how painful this all is. I wish I could say anything to make it better but there isn't anything to say. There aren't any words."

Sinking onto the bed head in hands, he sighed, "No, there isn't. I'm glad you know that. That I don't have to explain it or make excuses for the way I'm behaving."

"It's easier to hear nothing at all instead of people trying to placate you and give empty condolences. It's easier when someone knows and isn't trying to analyze everything you do."

"Yea," he agreed.

"Just because I went through my own experiences doesn't mean that I know what you're feeling. So, I'll try and keep mine to myself," she said.

He raised his head, "Christ," he said holding out his hand, "Come here." Stepping to him, she took his hand, and let him draw her into his lap. "I didn't mean for you to think I don't want you supporting me. I know you know, and it makes it easier for me. I'm sorry," he said resting his brow to hers.

"You should say that to your mother, Robin. She's grieving too. She shouldn't have to add guilt to that."

Resting his arms around her, he laid his head on her shoulder. "I don't know what to say to her. She knows I'm sorry, I don't talk to my mother like that, ever," he insisted. "I just have no words to comfort her or myself."

"I know," she wrapped her arms tighter around him. "All you can do is spend time with him, maybe after this vacation, you can take some time off, stay with him," she suggested.

"Gold would never go for that," he said. "I'll figure something else out. Let's go, my mom is probably waiting."

When she stood, he pulled a shirt on and buttoned it. "Robin?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you," she said as she left him alone.

THE HOSPITAL SMELT LIKE alcohol, antiseptic, and decay. As they took the elevator up, he held his mother's hand. Regina stood behind them, he didn't know what to say. It was comforting that Regina knew how he felt but knowing and experiencing are two different things. For now, he was content that she was here and silently supporting him.

His mother led them down the hall, to the right, and into a room with a faded pink curtain drawn. Amelia smiled, "You take some time, Regina and I will go speak to Dr. Whalen."

He kissed his mother's cheek, turned to Regina. She gave a small smile before he walked behind the curtain. He held his breath and stood staring at a stranger.

His father was tucked into the bed, sheets to his chest. His arms lay weakly to his sides. An IV port was hooked to the top of his hand. There were tubes and wires connected a machine at his bedside. It had so many buttons, so many strange apparatuses, bottles, and gauges, he didn't understand.

Oxygen tubes were tucked over his ears and under his nose, his face was pale. It was so white, he could see his lips chalked and chapped. He clenched his jaw, tears sprang to his eyes. This old man didn't resemble his father in the least. This man wasn't the man who'd sat beside him in a room when he was six years old.

The man who had promised to take care of him and that he wouldn't go without food. That no one would touch him or hit him. The man who gave him a home took him fishing. He took him from a home, from a past, and turned him into the man he became. The man before him was near death and he couldn't do anything about it.

He rested his hands on the end of his bed, let the tears fall. Silently, he grieved and didn't want to say goodbye to his father. How could he have been there the year before and seen a virile, strong, and healthy man? Fast-forward a year, and he was weak, old, and small.

When his father's eyes fluttered open, he smiled. "Robby," he said weakly. He lifted a weak hand out for him.

"Dad," he said going to him and holding his hand. He sat in the chair beside the bed.

"I'm so glad to see you, Mia told me you'd be here. Where's your new lady?" It seemed absurd that he'd ask about her. That he would try to preserve some kind of normal.

"With mom," he said absently. "Dad, I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. I really wish that I couldn't be able to help. If you'd told me sooner, I'd have been here."

His dad patted his hand, "Don't you feel guilty for that. We knew it was a long shot when you were tested. We didn't want to interrupt your life and your career. Not when you are as successful as you've been."

"That doesn't matter to me, dad. You matter to me. What can I do?"

"Being here is enough, I'll be okay. I've got plenty of doctors and your mother to keep me busy with the fussing. Don't you join them," he begged. If the situation were different, he'd have laughed. Seeing his father struggling to take in breaths, it wasn't funny.

"Alright, tell me what the doctors say, at least."

Jordan sighed, "They say the machine is failing, I've used all the medication they give dialysis patients. None seem to be working and they don't know how much longer my kidney's will hold out. Do something for me," he said.

"Anything," Robin said.

"Live your life and don't think about me in this place. Remember me how I was. Not this sick man. Promise me," he squeezed his hand faintly.

Although it broke his heart to agree, he did, "I promise."

If it were possible, he smiled, "Good. So, tell me all about your life in America. Tell me about this woman your mother says you want to marry."

He'd give his father anything in his limited time. So, he tried to discuss his job and his life with Regina. His plans.

REGINA SAT IN THE CAFETERIA hours later. She'd met with Jordan, Robin's father's doctor. Dr. Whalen explained the long-term risks of donating a kidney such as hypertension, struggles with organ failure, hernias, and more.

They discussed what kidney donation entailed, the risks, the possible complications, and what to expect afterward. They'd given her a complete run-through of the procedure. The recovery would be between 4-6 weeks. When they'd thoroughly explained it, they drew some blood.

Then, they set up an appointment with her doctor for a follow-up. There would be further blood tests, tissue testing, and if the first went through. They explained there is a 25% chance of being a complete match. There is a 50% match to be a half-match. It all sounded like gibberish to her. She just hoped that she would be a match in any case.

For now, she'd keep this between Amelia and herself. Feeling hungry, she sat eating the daily special. A club with a pickle and chips. She sat silent as Robin and Amelia talked about Jordan's symptoms and what she'd kept from him.

Guilt was present in her gut, she didn't want to keep things from him. Didn't want to keep this test to herself. But she tried to think of how she would feel. What if he'd done the same or someone had, and they found out they weren't a match. How disappointed would she be? Shattered, she decided.

She'd be shattered and wouldn't know how to recover from that. So, she held onto the guilt and decided to keep her silence. She was glad to have these few days with Robin and Amelia. Glad to meet Jordan. For now, she'd be there for Robin in his grief like no one was there for her. She didn't have anyone with her when she was going through it.

Being there for him, she knew she could be that support. Soon, she'd have to call Zelena and see her mother. It was a lot of stress to put on herself. It was a lot to put on anyone, she thought. Looking at Robin chewing on a sandwich, she knew he'd have ups and downs.

Amelia spoke, "I'd like to go down to the shops tomorrow. They have it decorated for Christmas and they'll be having a festival party."

Regina watched Robin turn and glare at her. Regina said, "I'd be happy to go with you. It sounds like fun. We just went to the parade in my home town and it was a lot of fun. Christmas is my favorite time of year."

His glare turned from his mother to her, she swallowed. Looking down at her food, she felt her cheeks burn. "Thanks, dear. I'm sure the festivities will be plentiful. I want to get some stuff for your father, and well Tommy and Brit, and the kids. Oh, did I mention, I invited Ruby and Dorothy?"

"No," he mumbled. "How are they?"

Regina admired him for banking the anger she saw shoot into his eyes. "Oh, just lovely. They just bought a house and Ruby was promoted. So, they have better income."

"That's great," he said in a flat affect.

"Tommy and Brit are expecting another baby, a boy this time," she rattled on. "Your cousins are a little disappointed, but they'll come to terms with it."

Regina stopped eating, watching the tension between them, and didn't want to speak up again and earn that look. It was hard to see him so angry, so sad.

"They'll be fine," he said. "That's great for them," he said honestly.

"They're excited," Amelia said. "August is getting married," she said.

"August?" His brow rose, he looked surprised. "Since when? Who?"

Amelia laughed, "Yes, August. He started seeing a woman from work, her name is Julia. They'll be married come June."

"I'll have to meet her, size her up," he said seemingly in a better mood.

Amelia laughed and turned to Regina, "August is Robby's cousin, my brother's son. He's the one who said he'd never get married. Well, Julia is a sweetheart and snapped him right up. Tangled his tongue, she did."

"Sounds like a great woman," she said.

"Yea, she is. I adore her. Let's see, who else?" Amelia looked to the side to remember her list. "Shawn and Beth, Marco and Gloria, along with Pino, of course. Leroy and Agnus, too. They just had a baby girl eight months ago. I think I told you," she said.

Robin said, "You sent me a picture. She's cute," he said.

"Yea, well. Christmas is going to be a full house, so be prepared."

Regina sighed, "You have such a big family. It was always a small affair for me. I'm looking forward to seeing how you navigate a group of people."

Amelia laughed, "You'll be in for a big shock. I'm going to head back upstairs. Why don't you two take some time and head back to the house?" She kissed Robin's head, Regina's cheek, and walked away.

Silently, she sat picking her at her food, tearing the bread apart. She wanted to give him time, to come to terms with all this on his own. He ate, which she was glad about, he drank. He seemed to move from one movement to the next.

"Want to take a walk?"

Meeting his eyes, she nodded, "Sure."

He drove them to Hyde Park in the heart of London. Snow lined the ground, entering there is a sign reading, "Winter Wonderland." Two shops with high Christmas trees on the roof lit up in white lights, a bridge connecting the two to form an arch. One shop reads, Candy Floss Factory, the window shows bags hang in colorful groups. Inside, you can see a Ferris wheel, a tower, more shops, and rides.

Reading the sign, she sees what they have to offer. Peter Pan on Ice, Cinema, Circus, and more. There are numerous events and places for kids, teenagers, and adults to go. As he pays for their entrance, they walk around the shops. It's all so beautiful. There are so many Christmas decorations. So many stores.

He slides his hand in hers and links their fingers, "My dad brought me here all the time. We'd go to the circus, he'd let me ride the rides, we'd pig out on food, and we'd go ice skating."

"I wish you could have come with him," she says.

"I wanted to bring you here. Right now, there aren't' many people. At night, this place lights up and fills with people. This place is important to me."

"It means a lot to me that you'd share it with me," she said.

"I'm sorry, Regina. This trip was supposed to be a little fun, but I didn't anticipate that I'd feel like this or get this news."

"We both knew that this was going to be hard. You seeing your father, me seeing my mother. We can't just push things under the rug because they don't go our way. We have to deal with them even if that means being knocked off our feet. You're grieving and you have a right to do that in any way you know how."

They walked past a carousel where he remembered his father took him, past a large Christmas tree he'd thought was as tall as the sky. "I'm not really sure I know how yet. I'm glad you're here with me."

"I'm glad I could be. So, show me your favorite places."

He did. Despite their age, they rode the carousel, rode the Ferris wheel. They snacked on churros and drank cocoa. They spent some time at the circus where they watched people with considerable skill perform tricks.

After, he showed her around Angel's Christmas market. They went to the haunted mansion where they giggled at how absurdly stupid it was. He managed to get her to try the hangover ride, which she did gladly. Though, she said she wouldn't do it again. At the end of the night, they stopped at Ski Zillertal Ice rink, where they skated around a beautiful gazebo decked out in lights that strung to the light poles.

They held hands and skated around to music playing, people shuffling about, and when the sky grew dark, he kissed her under the cover of stars.

When they arrived at his mother's home, she was already tucked into bed. They silently moved through the house and into the bedroom. They hung their jackets on the back of the door. Regina slid her shoes off and sat on the edge of the bed. "That was really fun," she said.

"It was, and thanks for letting me get distracted. I didn't think about my dad for most of it."

"Good. You have to enjoy the good with the bad or you'll start to stand still. Once you stand still, it's hard to get moving again," she said.

Holding out his hand, he said, "Come here." When she stood, he took her into his arms and hugged her tight. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here with me."

"You don't have to find out," she said.

"I need something," he said releasing her.

"Anything," she said simply.

Why would that cause him to relax more than he had all afternoon? It drained all the tension away to know that she was there. Open and willing to give him anything he needed. He took the edges of her shirt and slipped it up and over her head. "I just need you," he said. Slowly, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra, drew it away.

She stood watching him, waiting, but he didn't want to touch her. Not yet. He unsnapped her jeans, lowered the zipper, and eased them down her hips. He knelt down, withdrew her jeans from her legs, and took her socks with them.

He pulled the tie on the side of her hip until the fabric released, did the same to the other side and the fabric feel to the ground. Standing, he took a step back and gazed over her body. The body he knew well. Then, he met her eyes, saw the discomfort, her arms itched to hide herself. "Turn around," he said softly.

When she did, he merely kissed her shoulder. Then, he did the same with his own clothes, removing them one item at a time. When he was naked, he stepped to her, "I need you, Regina." It was but a whisper.

"I'm right here," she said.

He turned and lowered the sheets of the bed, took her hand, and led her toward the bed. He slid beneath the sheets, drew her in next to him. He wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her hair. "I just want to hold you. Wrap your legs around me," he said.

When she did, he just held her. He ran his fingers through her hair, traced her skin with his fingertips, and kissed her skin softly. "I just want you here with me. You as you are and me as I am," he said laying his lips on hers. "I love you," he said into another kiss.

"Hold me," he begged. He didn't know if he was begging or asking. It just felt like he needed her to keep him together. He needed to feel her heart beating against his, vital, alive. To feel the warmth of her skin against his own. To feel and smell her, to know that she was there to keep him in the present.

She held him, he noted. She wrapped around him and held him tight. It was intimate, he didn't have the desire to do more than hold her against him. Flesh against flesh. "I'm holding you," she said.

As he began to slip into sleep, he thought, yes, she's holding him. Because he felt like he could slip away. She kept him here. Kept him sane. Her breathing matched to his, her heartbeat slowed as he did. Surrendering, he inhaled her scent and slid into the darkness of sleep.