Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! Marrilyn, fangirly662, ravenclaw312, and my guests! Peace out, and enjoy.

Regina twisted her ring around her middle finger, waiting for Robin to say something: right now, he was just staring straight ahead, utterly…what? Stunned…overwhelmed…unnerved? She couldn't tell, she'd never seen him like this.

"Robin?"

"What?" he croaked.

"Please say something," she said quietly.

His eyes flickered. "Something."

"Robin…" Regina sighed, hanging her head. She had just given him the full and detailed account of her history with Graham: everything from those early days in the Enchanted Forest to that last day in Storybrooke.

Well, except for the "crushing his heart" bit. Robin had been emotionally scarred enough for one day; that little anecdote could wait for a later time…or never, whatever.

She looked at her ring, twisting it around her finger. It was the ring Daniel had given her, all those years ago…right before Cora had crushed his heart right in front of her.

Cora. The woman who she loved with all her heart, and hated with with her entire soul. Her mother and her tormentor. The woman who had built her up, and tore her down; turned her into a monster, and into a queen. Regina studied the tiny jewel in the ring, trying to remind herself why she wanted to resurrect her in the first place.

You would have been enough.

That was why.

Regina couldn't remember ever feeling like her mother loved her…but she did remember loving her mother. As a little girl, she craved that warm, homey feeling of love: the one her father (well, adopted father) emanated, propping her up on his knee, tickling and hugging her as she squealed with laughter like a normal little girl. And then there was Cora: cold, stern, wry…but every so often, she spared her a kind word or a soft look, and a flash of motherliness overtook her. And that was what addicted Regina to her approval.

But that never happened. No matter how much she tried, how much she forced herself into the mold Cora created her, Regina could never satisfy her. And after a time, that desperation turned to hatred; which turned to madness; which turned to becoming exactly like her.

And then when Regina had decided to try to change everything she had become for Henry's sake, and then later for Robin's sake, she had stopped hating Cora. Because at this point, she understood: it was an illness, an affliction, to be like that. Cora had no heart, no love—she was terminally ill with misery. And that was how she died.

But if Regina could cure herself…couldn't Cora? Regina had so much more light in her life with Henry, than Cora had with the already-jaded, heartbroken teenaged-girl Regina had been. Maybe that was why she only got worse and worse; maybe bringing her back, and giving her the support Regina had depended on would make all the difference.

And if not, Whale and Archie could just pump her full of Valium and sedatives to keep her docile. But that was Option B.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Robin suddenly stood up. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go pick up Roland from preschool," he said, not looking at her. Regina narrowed her eyes.

"You only dropped him off an hour ago," she said.

"Well, I…" Robin's eyes darted around, looking for inspiration. "I have to go buy him a new coat," he said finally. "His winter coat is falling apart."

"Robin." Regina stood up, looking at him concernedly. "Talk to me."

"About what?" he said, forcing a smile on his face. "There's no need, Regina. I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're upset. And I understand completely why you would be, but—"

"I'm not upset," Robin shrugged.

"Yes, you are," she insisted. "And it's okay, I get it—"

"It's fine, Regina," he said, smiling through clenched teeth. "Really."

She inhaled sharply, trying to control her frustration. "Why are you doing this?" she asked tensely. "Why are you pretending to be fine, when you're clearly not fine?"

"I am fine."

"No, you're not!" she said, stamping her foot. "Just talk to me, okay?"

"There's nothing to talk about. You were a different person then," Robin said, as though he were reciting a history lesson. "You made lots of mistakes, but you've come so far—"

Her temper was starting to rise. "Robin—"

"—know you would never do anything like that now, because you've worked so hard—"

"Robin," she repeated, breathing hard. "Just stop."

"—have faith in you, that you've put all that behind you—"

"Robin!"

The mirror shattered behind her. Robin ducked, bringing his elbows over his head as shards of glass exploded through the air. Regina looked around wildly, her hands shaking.

"Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling down beside Robin, who was gingerly pushing himself back up.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine. For real," he added, catching her wary look. "What was that?"

"I don't know," she said anxiously, looking down at her hands. "I just…I lost control, I was all worked up, and…. I don't know."

"This happened last night, too, didn't it?" Robin asked, peering at her concernedly. "I don't understand. You've gotten upset before, you've never just—you know—burst out like that. Remember when Roland spilled grape juice on the carpet? Not even a spark."

Regina barely heard him. She looked down at her still trembling hands, breathing shakily. Maybe it was because of everything that had happened: so close together, so explosive and earth-shattering, and all at the same time, fueling each other's fires. Maybe being so emotionally unstable made her magic unstable, made her lose control over it.

Oh, God…she wasn't dangerous, was she?

The more she thought about it, the more her stomach twisted in panic and fear. What if she hurt Henry? What if she hurt Robin? What if she hurt Roland? Well, at least the carpet will be safe, she thought miserably.

"Regina?" Robin cautiously put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm… I'm all right now," she said, slowly getting up. "But maybe you should go. I don't want to…explode again."

"I'm not leaving," Robin said firmly.

Regina sighed, her head falling back. "Robin, don't argue with me. Not now."

"I set you off, I'm staying," he said stubbornly. "I was being an ass earlier, and it set you off, so I'm staying until you're…un-set-off."

"It wasn't you, it was everything," Regina said wearily.

"Everything?" Robin repeated, crinkling his brow. "That's an awful lot to deal with on your own. I think I should stay."

"I disagree," she said, looking at him intently. "You should leave. I need some time to deal with this."

"Regina—"

"Goodbye, Robin."

Robin looked at her with anxious eyes and, realizing she wasn't going to change her mind, slowly walked to the door. Regina waited a minute, then turned and sank onto the couch.

"Regina?"

She looked up: he was hovering by the door.

"What I said earlier…about going to pick up Roland?"

"Yeah?"

"I wasn't really going to pick up Roland."

Regina lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah. I know."

"I was going to go find Graham, and punch him."

"Again?"

"Yes. And then again after that."

"That is…uncharacteristically violent of you."

"And then I was going to pull out the crossbow."

"Oh, my God," she sighed, putting her head in her hands.

"And then I was going to go pick up Roland, drop him off with Will, and go back to finish what I started."

"Finish in what capacity?" Regina lifted her head, raising her eyebrows. "And how involved would your crossbow be?"

"Fairly involved," he shrugged.

"Well, that's very grounded of you," she said, straightening up and looking at her hands. They had stopped shaking now; her breathing had returned to a normal pace; and her heart was no longer slamming against her chest.

"Are you…okay?" Robin approached her hesitantly, a slight frown on his face. "Regina?"

"I'm fine," she said, half-surprised, standing up.

"That's…good, isn't it?" Robin bent to the side, trying to make eye contact. "You seem distressed."

"No, no…I'm just…" She looked up at him, shaking her head. "I don't know. I'm fine right now, but that magic-explosion-thing…it was just so out of nowhere."

"And you're worried about it happening again," Robin finished for her. "You know, Regina, it might be a good idea for you to call Archie. He could help you get a handle on your emotions…maybe that would help you get a handle back on your magic."

"Oh—" Regina snorted, tossing her head back. "Everyone says they're going to call Archie, they never do it. How many times did we tell Hook we were going to force him into going? I don't think he's even been inside the building."

"Then we'll call right now," Robin shrugged, pulling out his cell phone. "Make good on the promise."

"Wait, are you actually calling?" Regina said, looking over his shoulder. Her eyes widened as he put the phone to his ear. "Robin!"

He frowned, putting a finger to his lips and mouthing, Shh.

Don't! she mouthed back, but Robin ignored her, only holding up his finger as he listened.

"Yes, Dr. Archibald Hopper's office, please? Thanks." Robin waited, then raised his eyebrows. "Oh. There's Muzak."

Regina rolled her eyes as he started bopping his head in time to the rhythm. "Robin, hang up, I don't want to—"

"Hello, Dr. Hopper!" he said brightly. "Yes, I wanted to make an appointment…Yes, Regina Mills." He waited a minute, then pressed his hand against the mouthpiece, whispering to Regina, "He wants to know where you stand on updating Pongo's license."

Regina frowned. "I stand in the same spot I've been standing. He still has to do it."

"She says, you still have to do it," Robin said into the phone, and listened for another minute. "He says, you can come in on Monday if he doesn't have to update the license. If not, you'll have to wait until December fifteenth."

"Regina shook her head, bewildered. "I'm sorry—what is so hard about updating a dog license?"

"Did you get that, Archie?" Robin listened, nodding. "He says, it's not the updating of the license; it's the obligation. He feels trapped."

"I don't give a damn if he feels trapped, it's the law!"

"It's the law, Archie," Robin sighed into the phone. "No, I don't know, but Regina is the mayor and—okay….Okay, yes, I will tell her," He put the phone to his chest. "He says, he can't help you if he feels trapped, because it prevents him from reaching his full potential as a therapist."

"Fine. I'll take the fifteenth," she hissed. "And you can tell him that if he doesn't update the license by Monday, he will be trapped—in a holding cell."

Robin frowned. "I don't think you can imprison someone over a dog license."

Regina raised her eyebrows coolly. "Watch me."