A/N: Remember this is the second of three chapters I will posting today. Check back for more in a few hours and read the previous chapter if you haven't already. Enjoy!

TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO / ONE YEAR WITHOUT REGINA

At this point in Robin's life he could honestly say that he had two great joys: Roland and football. Or as the Americans called it soccer. Now Robin loved Roland with all his heart, he'd hop in front of a bus to protect him but this weekend was the beginning of the FIFA World Cup Tournament, a month long celebration where 32 international teams would give it their all to see who could make it to the final round and bring home the cup for their country. So it was fairly obvious which of his joys had taken priority for the weekend.

That's not to say that he'd put Roland on the back burner in anyway. His two-year-old son was currently jumping on the couch in a slightly oversized Brazil jersey, one that matched his father's perfectly, as he chanted over and over "Bra-zil! Bra-zil!" Robin watched him bounce around with a grin on his face. Yes, Roland and football were his two greatest joys in life but football with Roland would never fail to put a smile on his face.

The doorbell rang and Roland raced to answer it. Robin quickly stepped into his path and scooped him up into his arms with a playful growl. "What did I tell you about answering the door?"

Roland giggled as his father tickled his ribs. "Wait for you!"

"That's right," laughed Robin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. In the last few months Roland had moved on from stumbling into trouble to running towards it headfirst. It gave Robin a near overwhelming mixture of pride and fear to know that his son had inherited his own brand of irresponsible fearlessness. He never looked where he was going as he ran, he would climb on top of any and all furniture and jump from any height without hesitation. Roland required near constant supervision and though somedays he ran his father ragged Robin wouldn't change one curly hair on his head. Though he knew Roland was a bit reckless, he also knew his son was always the first in line to try new things and make new friends. He was never shy or fearful of attention, on the contrary he embraced it with a smile every time. A smile that, for Robin, made every day worth living.

After depositing Roland back on the ground Robin opened up the door to find Hook standing on the other side wearing the same Brazil jersey as Roland and himself. He held up a six pack and grinned. "Ready to watch Italy get their asses handed to them?"

"Always," replied Robin. He eyed the beers in Hook's hand with a tilted head. "You haven't forgotten that I don't drink anymore, have you?"

Hook scoffed at him and smirked as he made his way into the apartment. "Who said any of these are for you?"

Four beers, and root beers, later Robin and Hook were happy to say that the football match lived up to their expectations. It was touch and go for the last half but Brazil had triumphed over Italy in a match that caused frequent shouts of shock and indignation to fly from both their mouths. Shouts that would go unnoticed by Roland seeing as how he had fallen asleep sometime in the second half. He was currently draped over the side of the arm chair, one hand still inside the bowl of chips he'd nestled into his lap during the game.

Hook affectionately ran his fingers through Roland's curl's. "Tuckered out in the first half. What a lightweight."

"Excitement must've gotten to him," said Robin walking over to armchair. He gently gathered Roland in his arms, being extra careful not to wake him. "I suppose I'll just put him down for the night. If I'm lucky he'll sleep 'til morning."

He headed down the hall with Roland in his arms, trying to make his footsteps as soft as possible as not to wake him. Tip toeing his way into his room he gently laid Roland on the left side of the bed. He'd outgrown his crib months ago and Robin knew he should look into getting him a bed of his own soon, but until then his son could just sleep by his side. After making sure that Roland was properly tucked in, he made his way back to the living room. He knew that Hook had drank no less than four beers and was probably in no condition to drive. That made his responsibility to make sure that he got into a cab instead of driving home on his own. Shockingly when he came out from the hallway he found Hook already going through the drawer where he kept the number of a taxi service. "Looking for the taxi cab number again?"

"Yeah," mumbled Hook, still staring down at the drawer with wide eyes. "But I just have one quick question. Why is there a check for 800,000 dollars buried in this drawer?"

Robin just stared back at him with wide eyes as the sight of his best friend holding up the check he'd long since tried to forget caused his mind to suddenly go blank. He silently cursed himself for not ripping it up like he'd wanted so many times before. After a moment of tense silence, he croaked out, "You weren't supposed to see that."

"And yet here we are," replied Hook smoothly. "So if you don't mind I'd like an answer."

"Maybe I do mind," said Robin, walking over to snatch the check from Hook's hand. "It's not exactly your business."

Any trace of the joy Robin had while watching the game had evaporated when the check had been brought up and it was replaced by a mix of pain and anger that made his spine rigid and his jaw clenched. Hook watched him with narrowed eyes as he placed the check back into the drawer and slammed it shut.

"Perhaps it isn't my business," said Hook, crossing his arms. "But money like that doesn't just fall off trees. So maybe you might be able to understand why I'm so concerned with how you got it?"

Robin sighed as he turned to face him. "Well if you must know… it's the money from Marian's life insurance."

Hook's eyebrows rose to the top of his forehead at Robin's answer. "Really? I didn't even know that you guys had life insurance."

"We took it out when we first started looking into adoption," explained Robin tiredly. "Marian thought it might make us look better to the agencies and when we found out she was pregnant with Roland she figured that it made sense for us to keep up with our policies just in case."

Robin sighed as his thumb instinctively rubbed the wedding band that still graced his left ring finger. "She was always looking out for our future in little ways like that."

His mind flashed back to the year where they'd decided to look into adoption. Marian had spent weeks devouring every piece of literature that she could about adoption agencies and how they chose which families to help. It hadn't taken her long to realize that she and Robin had close to no chance at being chosen. After that unwelcome discovery they'd discussed ways to make themselves more appealing. Searching for a better home was at the top of their list of course but she'd also had them sign up for an insurance policy as a way to show that they were prepared for the future. He'd never expected that they would actually have to use it one day.

Hook nodded his head understandingly and licked his lips before asking his next question. "Robin… how long have you had that check?"

"A while," he replied cryptically, as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"A while like… a few weeks?" prodded Hook gently.

Robin looked away from him guiltily. "A while like… a few months. Six."

Hook's jaw dropped as he openly gaped at him. "You've been letting a million dollars burn a hole into your drawer for half a year?!"

"Well it's not a million dollars," Robin mumbled. It was $800,000. God he'd thought of that number every single day for the last few months. It had painfully knocked around in his head leaving bruises on every memory he had on his marriage. Every happy moment, and every hope and dream and plan he'd made with his wife had vanished. And the value of those things? $800,000. Of course this was predetermined amount set by the insurance company but it still made Robin's skin crawl to have the value of someone he loved translated into dollar and cents. It wasn't a small amount of money but he still knew he'd trade every penny of it for the chance to give Roland his mother back.

"Why haven't you used it yet? Or at the very least deposit it into your bank account?" questioned Hook, his voice going up an octave. "You can't just leave it sitting around like this!"

"Why not?" said Robin shrugging his shoulders. "There's nothing I could spend that money on that won't make me feel guilty for using it."

"Why would it make you feel guilty?"

"Because I feel like I'm profiting of my wife's death!" exclaimed Robin. "If Marian hadn't died then I wouldn't have this money and every time I see that check it's all I can think about. It just feels like blood money. I don't want to use it and I don't want to need it."

Hook to a deep breath through his nose trying to process just what Robin had told him. He supposed it made sense for Robin to feel this way but he still knew that he had to at least try to make him see the other side for Roland's sake.

"Do you want my advice?" he asked.

"Not really," said Robin, shaking his head at him. "You're pretty drunk right now so I doubt it'll be useful."

"Oh please, I've only had four beers," pointed out Hook. "I'm buzzed at the most and you know it."

Robin only rolled his eyes in response.

"Drunk or not I have an opinion that I feel you should hear," said Hook pressing on. "Marian took out that policy to take care of you. Because she didn't want you scrambling to make ends meet if she wasn't able to help out anymore."

"But I'm not scrambling," interjected Robin. "I'm doing fine on my own."

"Let me finish!" ordered Hook, raising a finger to Robin's face. "I know that you've taken care of Roland alone for the past two years and you've done a damn good job of it. But you know that this was never the life you and Marian planned for him to have. To be living here, in this one-bedroom apartment doing just a little bit better than barely making it. That wasn't what you wanted. And things might be fine now but they could pile up once he gets older. Maybe he'll need braces or football lessons or tuition for some fancy private school. This money was Marian's way of making sure that you could give him all those things without hesitation. She wanted to make sure that even if she was gone you and Roland would still be able to have the life you planned for him. You can't just let it sit around collecting dust. This money was her gift to you so you need to use it in a way you think would honor her. Make a better life for you and your son."

Robin hated to admit it but as he listened to Hook's advice he knew his friend had a point. He and Marian had always wanted to at least try and give Roland the best of everything. Despite her death Marian had given him an opportunity to do just that but he was squandering it. He didn't like the idea of using the money but he did wish to give Roland all the things he didn't have when he was a child and he owed it to Marian to make sure that he followed through on that wish.

Robin narrowed his eyes at Hook with a smirk. "Has anyone ever told you that when you're drunk you make very good points."

Hook shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "It's one of my hidden talents."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Over the next few days Robin gave himself time to think over Hook's advice. He and Marian had always wanted better for Roland and it was time he took steps for making that happen. The only question was where to get started. He found his answer early one morning when the shower handle for the hot water snapped off for the fifth time.

Robin leaned against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest as Tink kneeled in his bathtub screwing the knob back into place. With her trusty red toolbox at her side she'd showed up not long after he called her, always happy to lend a helping hand despite this being the tenth time he'd called in six months.

"Ten bucks is all it takes Robin! Ten bucks!" she complained. "These knobs would be replaced and you'd never have to call me again for this."

"Tell that to my super," Robin shot back tiredly. "He's the one who won't get off his lazy arse!"

In the years that he'd lived in his apartment building he'd put in dozens of work orders to the apartment manager that went unfulfilled. After a while he just realized that he was better off calling Tink for help rather than waiting for the apartment staff to do their jobs. She'd get things done faster and better.

"Supers," she spat. "They give all handymen a bad name."

Robin smirked at her indignation as he helped her step out of the bathtub. "Not to worry Tink. I don't think there's a super around awful enough to damage your reputation."

She sent him a proud smile as she wiped her hands off on her overall shorts. "Do you want me to take a look at your ceiling fan while I'm here?"

"Yeah that'd be great."

While providing him with sufficient light in the dark the fan above Robin's bed had begun to rhythmically shake whenever it was turned on. With a craned neck Tink groaned as she stood atop Robin's mattress and narrowed her eyes at it. She raised her hand above her head and pointed toward the base. "I see the problem… the screws have come loose. It's a good thing you called me when you did. Another week this thing probably would've crashed down and crushed you in your sleep."

Robin felt a shiver run down his spine as the image of Roland being trapped under his faulty ceiling fan.

"You'll want to move your bed until I can come back with a ladder tomorrow," said Tink, hopping off the bed. She put her hands on her hips and brought her eyes back up to ceiling. "Does your rental agreement say anything about nail holes?"

He shook his head at her. "No. Why?"

"Well I was thinking when I come back to fix up your ceiling fan, I might take some measurements so I can fix you up with a room divider."

"A room divider?" questioned Robin. "For what?"

"For you and Roland?" responded Tink. "I assume that one of these days you plan on getting him his own bed and a room divider might be nice for when he gets older and wants some privacy."

"Oh," breathed Robin. "Well I suppose that makes sense."

Tink gathered together her tools and headed for the door. "I'll be back tomorrow after I borrow my dad's ladder. See you then."

"Yeah see you then," he mumbled back.

As he heard the door close behind her Robin looked around his bedroom with a grimace. Suddenly it just seemed very small. He'd been so excited when he and Marian had first moved in but now he felt as though he'd outgrown it and he knew that in a few years his son would too. Roland was young enough now that things like sleeping in the same room as his father didn't seem strange to him but he wouldn't stay that way for long. He'd soon need his space.

Robin walked out into the living room with a sigh. He'd spent his entire marriage in this apartment but standing in it now he couldn't help but feel that it was time to move on.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Janet Smith loved working in real estate. She'd been a realtor for nearly twenty years. And she was damn good at it. She'd sold houses, condos and townhomes to families and bachelors and newlyweds. And those sales were what made her heels into Manolos, and kept her handbag Gucci but it wasn't as if she was in the business purely for the money. No she was in the game for the rush. That indescribable, overwhelming sense of pride she received when she smacked a SOLD sticker over a FOR SALE sign. That was what got her out of bed in the morning. The knowledge that no matter who came in her path she would always succeed in finding them just the right real estate. And there was only one person who made her doubt that knowledge. Robin Locksley.

At first he'd seemed like an average, everyday client. Widowed single father with a little boy, decent budget and a sexy British accent, a definite plus in Janet's book, but nothing special. Then as she showed him house after house she realized just what was wrong about him. Houses with pools, houses without, houses with five bedrooms, houses with three bedrooms, houses close to the beach, lofts downtown. He refused them all. Somewhere around the fifth house was when Janet realized that Robin Locksley was a client that didn't know what he wanted. And therefore, was incapable of making a decision. It was clients like him that almost made her hate her job.

Janet sighed as she locked the front door to a lovely four-bedroom, two-story home less than two miles away from the beach. Tile floors, a magnificent kitchen and plenty of room for guests. Yet another house that he'd declared "just not right for him." It was the third house she'd shown him this week and it was beginning to grate on her nerves that he hadn't liked one thing about it. She could feel his eyes on her back as she locked up. He was probably standing behind her with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders pulled up in a shrug as he stared at her with that familiar apologetic look in his eyes.

"I'm sorry if I'm being a bit difficult," she heard him mumble. "I just… really don't think this is the place for us."

She quickly fixed her lips into a tight smile before flipping her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder to face him. "It's fine Robin really. I've been doing this for quite a while and I know this is a decision you need to trust your gut on."

Robin sighed as he shrugged his shoulders. "I just hate to feel like I'm wasting your time."

She nodded her head understandingly as she walked past him to the driver's side of her 2012 Mercedes. "Robin I've told you over and over, this would be done a lot quicker if you told me what you're looking for exactly."

"I don't know," said Robin shaking his head absentmindedly. "I just… I'm not getting the feeling you should get when you step into your future home."

Oh god, he was a feeler. Janet had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "I understand that but you have to form some idea of what you want. Or at the very least what you don't want."

Robin sighed as he reached for the passenger door of her car. His fingers drummed against the roof of her car as he thought over the house he'd just been in. "Well… I suppose I don't want as many rooms as this one. It'll be just me and Roland for years and then it'll probably be just me, so I don't want the spare rooms. It'll just seem…"

"Like empty space," finished Janet. Yeah she'd heard that more than once. She slipped into the driver's seat and buckled her seat belt as she racked her brain of the properties that her agency was responsible for. Her hands settled on the steering wheel as Robin slipped into the seat beside her.

"Okay there's another house I'd like you to see today," she said turning to face him. "It's smaller than this one but still pretty nice. Think you're up for it?"

"Sure I've got some extra time," said Robin, strapping on his seat belt.

Janet drove them toward the east end of the neighborhood, a bit further from the beach than the previous house but still less than a ten-minute drive. The house she'd had in mind was a small ranch style home with three bedrooms and large front yard. It wasn't the most luxurious of houses but hopefully it was what Robin had in mind.

Her hopes were dashed when she pulled up to the house only to see her coworker/nemesis, Cindy Buchanan, shaking hands with a young couple on the front lawn.

"Oh hell no," she growled under her breath. She forced a smile to her face as she stepped out of the car and called out to her nemesis. "Cindy, might I have a word?"

The brunette turned to face her with a devious smile as she nodded. "Of course."

She spoke a few short words with the couple before smugly joining Janet by the fence. "Why hello there Jan. Something I can do for you?"

Janet bristled at the shortened version of her name but she took a deep breath to reel in her anger. "Spare me the passive aggressive greetings Cindy. What the hell are you doing at this house?"

"Selling it. I thought that was rather obvious," replied Cindy, her tone dripping with superiority.

"You know damn well every house in this neighborhood is in my territory," whispered Janet, ferocity flaring behind her eyes. "You should've stuck to downtown."

"Territories aren't official!" snapped Cindy, in a hushed voice. The freckles over her nose danced as she pulled her lips into a smirk. "A professional courtesy sure, but you should've never expected me to be courteous to you. If you were so protective over this house, you should've sold it three months ago when it was first listed. Don't throw a hissy fit at me just because I've learned to do your job both better and faster than you can."

Janet felt her skin grow hot with every word that fell from Cindy's mouth. It took all she had not to throw her fist right into her smug face. Bitch.

Cindy only chuckled at Janet's apparent rage. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have paperwork to draw up."

Janet watched her saunter back to her car, her anger still steaming in her gut. Just like that her plans to show Robin the house went up in smoke. And so did her possible commission check. She took a deep breath before turning back to the car, prepared to tell Robin that they'd missed their window. To her surprise he was no longer in the car anymore. Her head whipped down the street and she found him leaning against a wire fence gazing at a property two houses over.

At the approaching sound of her heels against the sidewalk Robin tore his eyes away from the house. "I'm sorry, you seemed a bit preoccupied."

"Yeah, well... there's not really much to say about that," replied Janet. "Turns out you won't be able to look at the house anyway. It's already been sold."

"Shame," muttered Robin absentmindedly. "What about this one?"

Janet widened her eyes at him in shock. "This one?"

"Yeah, I saw your agency owned it."

Janet turned back to the house with a scoff. It was true that the house was under her agency's jurisdiction, their familiar for sale sign planted on the front lawn, but Robin's apparent fascination with it came as a bit of a shock. The house was not attractive by any standards. Planks of wood were nailed over the holes where the glass from the windows had been bashed in on both the first and second floor of the house. The front lawn was bare besides the sprouts of weeds that grew around the foundation of the house, highlighting the cracks that could be seen in the concrete. A tire swing swayed listlessly from a nearly broken branch of the oak tree in the front yard. Everyone in the agency knew about this house. It'd been on the market for nearly ten years. They'd nicknamed it the Orphan because despite its size no family would ever want it.

"Can I get a closer look?" asked Robin eagerly.

"Sure," said Janet, a disbelieving chuckle escaping her. "I don't have the keys but you can check out the yard."

The hinges of the wire screeched as Robin opened the gate to enter the front yard. He could make out different pictures in the graffiti spray-painted on the wooden planks over the windows. Some of it was rather inappropriate. He approached the door with caution and made his way onto the porch. From the corner of his eye he could see Janet cringe with every step he took and he couldn't blame her. The wood beneath his feet creaked under his weight and the paint chips on the railing fell like snow despite his light grip. The house practically sagged with age. Robin knew if Roland was here he would say that the house looked sad. And he would be right.

"How long has your agency held onto this place?" asked Robin curiously.

"A little over a decade I think," answered Janet. "The head of the agency bought it hoping he could put it through some renovations and sell it for a profit but the market took a dip and he couldn't afford to. Ever since then it's just been sitting here. It's an absolute eyesore. Everyone in the neighborhood complains about it."

Robin nodded as she listed off the house's history. Sad old house could use a second chance.

"It's got three bedrooms though," added Janet. "A big backyard. Just needs someone willing to give it love and attention."

He turned to her with a knowing look. "And if I was willing to give it love and attention… how much would that cost me?"

A grin stretched its way across Janet's face. He eyes flickered to the "For Sale" sign planted ten feet from where she stood. It suddenly looked ripe for a sticker.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

NEW YORK

Regina grimaced as she clicked through the house photos that Robin sent her. Not one angle looked flattering, and that was just the exterior. The pictures of the inside revealed rotting floorboards, a ripped out stove and tilted cabinets. She scrunched up her nose as she reached for the red wine by her side.

"Oh I know that look," drawled Robin. "You are not pleased."

She scoffed at her laptop screen before taking another sip of her wine. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail as she sat cross-legged at her kitchen table, warm in her button-up pajamas. Henry had long-since gone to bed after having a lengthy conversation with Robin about the latest marvel movie and its inaccuracies and Emma was out at her night classes. It was just her and Robin now. A bit like old times. He'd insisted on Skyping her to make sure he got the full picture of her reaction to the house. Personally, Regina thought he was being silly. She'd never been one to hold back her opinion, not with him at least.

"I know it looks… rundown," admitted Robin.

"I was going to say 'decrepit'" responded Regina. "A mess this big requires SAT words."

"Very funny," he mumbled. He leaned back in the chair at his own kitchen table, watching her shake her head as she went through photo after photo. Skyping wasn't something he was fond of, in his opinion it never worked as well as it should, but despite his misgivings he'd taken up an account to keep up with Henry and Regina. Phone calls were good but sometimes seeing their faces was what he needed. That small lift of Regina's eyebrow when she found something dubious in his tone, or suspect in his reasoning. The narrowing of her eyes and parting of her lips when her curiosity was piqued. Regina might be capable of lying with words, but her face was always honest. And he could use that honesty right now.

"Where did you even find this place?" asked Regina, shaking her head at him.

"My realtor showed it to me."

"You should find a better realtor. This one clearly hates you."

He only chuckled in response. "I know it's unsightly… but I want it."

Regina eyebrows jumped to her hairline. "Are you serious? Three months of house hunting and this is the one you've settled on?"

"It's old but it's cheap," pointed out Robin. "Four times cheaper than anything else in the area. It just requires a bit of work to make it livable."

"A bit?"

"Well…" drawled Robin. "The floors need to be replaced, as do the windows, and the cabinets. Come to think of it I'd probably just redo the whole kitchen. I'll have to get the electrical wiring inspected and possibly replaced. The lawn and backyard also need to be brought back to life and I might even rip out the wire gate."

"Is that all?" replied Regina sarcastically. "What about the upstairs?"

"I didn't really get the chance to look," admitted Robin. "They said letting me go up the stairs was a liability they couldn't afford."

"Robin…"

He sighed at the chastising tone of her voice. "I know it's insane. Everyone here has told me so."

"But you don't want to listen?" said Regina curiously. It was more of a statement then a question. She could see in Robin's eyes how much he wanted the house. It'd been a long time since she'd seen him this passionate about anything besides Roland. She leaned her elbows against the kitchen table and looked into the camera seriously. "Okay tell me why."

"Tell you why?"

"Tell me why you want the house so badly," she ordered. "You're seeing something there that no one else is. What are you seeing Robin?"

He licked his lips as his mind flashed back to vacant house in the photos. Despite the boarded up windows and bared lawn he'd felt a pull the moment he'd laid eyes on it. "You know when I was seven my father decided to move us to America. It was just him and my mother and me but we lived in this tiny apartment so we were always on top of each other. Sometimes it was nice to be so close but most of the time it was just… uncomfortable. My father worked so hard trying to get us out of that apartment. Weekends, nights, early mornings if asked. Yet somehow he always managed to find the time to walk me home from school, every single day. There was this house that we used to walk past two streets down from my school. When I think about it now it's like looking at a picture, I remember it that well. It was two stories with blue shutters around the window panes, boxwood shrubs around the lawn and the door was painted red with gold numbers nailed to it." A wistful chuckle escaped him. "Even had the white picket fence. My father would always tell me that one day, when things got better, we would live in a house like that. He promised me that every day."

Regina eyes were fixed to the screen as Robin began to lose himself in his memory. His eyes began to cloud over as a he brought his hand up to his chin and continued his story with a sigh. "We never got the house. When I was eleven my father died of a heart attack. He never really took care of himself and it caught up with him. My mother she… she didn't take it well. She started… drinking. Like mother, like son I suppose."

Regina felt a lump grow in her throat at Robin's words. "You got better," she reminded him softly. "That's what counts."

He nodded reluctantly. "Maybe… but my mother wasn't as lucky. She just got worse until one day she dropped me off at a home for boys and drove off. I never saw her again after that."

"I'm sorry," whispered Regina. If it wasn't for the clenching of his jaw she'd doubt he'd even heard her.

"I know I probably had a lot of better reasons to be upset but there was a part of me that was just really angry that we never got that house. I know it was probably childish but I really believed if my family was ever meant to have a good life, better than the one we ended up with, it would've been in a house just like the one my father used to walk me past."

Regina's eyes flickered back to the photos of the decrepit old house Robin had his heart set on. "And you think this house will provide that life for you and Roland?"

"I know it's stupid and foolish," admitted Robin, shaking his head pitifully. "But when I saw this house I saw everything my father ever wanted for me and now it's everything I want for Roland. I want him to have a home and I just know that this is where it's supposed to be. I don't how but I know it."

Regina sighed before pressing her lips together in thought. After a moment's hesitation she blew out a breath and nodded her head. "Well, you're going to need a hell of a contractor."

A grin spread across Robin's face at her words. "Really?"

"Sometimes in life we have to trust our guts," said Regina. "Buy the house. Make it a home."

Even through the slightly pixelated view of the computer screen, it took one look in her brown eyes to know that she meant every word and it was strange but he knew if he wasn't able to see that acceptance in her eyes and the encouragement in her smile he wouldn't be able to go through with any of it. Not the house, not even moving, none of it. But he did have her blessing. And somehow that made it seem like he was making all the right moves.

A YEAR LATER

Robin stood next to the kitchen counter surrounded by glasses and newspaper. One by one he took each glass, wrapped it up and placed it into the box at his feet. He never knew that packing could be so monotonous. His back had already begun to ache from his repeated bending over.

It took months. So many months of nails, and hammers and tiles but it was finally done. The renovations were costly, nothing that he couldn't afford though certainly not cheap, but the house was finally done. Transformed from the crumbling mess he'd originally bought to a stunning home that he would raise his son in. The floors were now solid and the rooms were ready. It was finally time to leave the apartment for good. He'd waited a long time for this day. And yet, as he packed up the last few boxes of the kitchenware, he felt his heart grow heavy. He'd had a lot of good memories in this place with Marian and without her. It was harder than he'd expected to leave.

"Hey Robin?"

He looked up to see Mulan coming from out of the hallway with a small box tucked under her arm. Her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail and her knees had barely visible bruises from the last few hours she'd spent on the floor packing up the bathroom. When Robin had told her this was his final week in the apartment she'd insisted on being there to help pack up despite his insistence that it wasn't necessary. There was very little left to pack up and he was more than capable of doing it with only Roland's minimal help. However, now that the day had arrived he found himself grateful for her presence. Ever since she'd given up waitressing to join the police academy Robin had missed having her around. Besides, packing up alone would've made him feel… sadder.

"You might want to have a talk with your son," she said, raising her eyebrows at him.

Robin set the box he'd been packing on the counter with a sigh. "Where is he?"

"Hiding under your bed with his monkey, refusing to come out." She gave him a knowing look before heading out to the car.

Robin gave his head a little shake before heading back to where Roland had hidden. He felt his heart clench as he opened the door to what could now be considered his old bedroom. It was stripped down to nothing but the bare walls now. They'd already moved out his dresser and nightstands, loaded them into the truck and drove them to the new house. Their indents in the carpet still remained. Cleaning out the closet had been the most difficult thing. For days he'd wrestled with himself over the decision of what to do with Marian's things. He'd ended up donating most of it, her clothes and shoes, but he kept a few sentimental items for himself and Roland, a book or two and the necklace he'd stolen when he'd first met her. Those things were moved out now and the room felt so unbearably empty without them. All that remained was his bedframe and mattress.

Robin groaned as he reached his bed and kneeled down to look underneath it. He found his son just where Mulan had said he was. Laying under the bed in his overalls and striped t-shirt, clutching the same stuffed Monkey that Henry had given him the day he was born. His curly hair had flecks of dust attached to it from where he'd laid his head against the floor and he looked up at his father apprehensively with his shiny brown eyes.

"Roland," drawled Robin gently. "What are you doing under the bed?"

The tiny boy shrugged his shoulders and mumbled, "I like it here."

"Well can you come out?"

He shook his head so fiercely the flew out of his curls as he hummed his discontent.

"Roland come out from under the bed," ordered Robin, raising his voice an octave.

"No!" snapped Roland. "I don't want to!"

Robin let out a frustrated groan as his patience began to wear thin. Over the past few weeks Roland had begun acting out in small ways. Refusing to eat vegetables, not going to sleep when told, just general unpleasantness. It was a hassle but Robin had no reason to believe it was nothing other than normal toddler misbehavior, a way to test his limits. In the face of such actions, Regina had told him to be gentle but stern and he had but Roland's behavior hadn't turned around yet.

"Roland we do not have time for this right now. We have to finish moving."

"I don't want to move!" cried Roland.

"What?" The word tumbled from Robin's mouth leaving him breathless with shock.

"I wanna stay here," whispered Roland tearfully. "No new house."

"No new house?" repeated Robin softly. A pin slid into his heart as he watched his son curl up under the bed fully prepared to stay there for as long as he deemed appropriate. He supposed this was Roland's form of a peaceful protest, a sit-in to express his displeasure with the idea of moving. At the very least, he had to admit it had caught him off guard. He and Roland had spent plenty of weekends at the house before, camping out in the living room to get used to the place and the neighborhood but Roland had never been this apprehensive about going there before. Robin took a moment before laying down on his back beside the bed. He turned his head so he could face Roland where he lay on his side underneath the bed frame.

"What's wrong with the new house?" he asked gently. "Do you not like it there?"

Roland shrugged his shoulders and Robin pressed his lips before continuing. "Don't we have fun at the new house?"

"Yes," Roland mumbled softly.

"Don't you like your room there?"

"I guess."

"Then why don't you want to live there?"

"I like it here," he said sadly. "It's happy."

"It's happy?" said Robin curiously. "Are you afraid you won't be happy in the new house?"

Roland nodded his head sadly and Robin let out a breath before reaching his hand under the bed. "Come out here son. I want to show you something."

"A good something?" asked Roland, his curiosity piqued.

"A very good something," responded Robin with a grin. After a moment of consideration Roland hesitantly grabbed his father's hand and allowed himself to pulled from under the bed. Robin quickly stood, picked up Roland and placed him on his hip. "What I would like to show you, Roland, is a very special spot."

He walked them out of the bedroom to the kitchen and stood on the space where their kitchen table had once been. "This spot Roland, is where your mother and I had our first dinner in this apartment. We'd ordered Chinese takeout and it came fifteen minutes late but it was the best meal I'd ever had. Do you know why?"

Roland shook his head.

"Because it was the first meal I had in a home with your mother," continued Robin. He smiled as he remembered Marian in her plaid button-up pajamas and braided pigtails sitting cross-legged on the old, metal fold up chairs Tuck had given them along with a collapsible table. She'd smiled as she slurped up her lo mein noodles and planned out which furniture they'd buy first. "Before that she and I had been living in a place underneath someone else's home but this was ours. And we were really proud of that. And as we ate together on our paper plates I thought I couldn't be happier. Until…"

He walked over to the apartment door. "I found this spot."

"The door!" giggled Roland happily.

"That's right the door but this isn't just the door," clarified Robin, in a playful deep tone. "No, this is where I gathered your mother in my arms and carried her over the threshold when we first married."

"Like the prince carries a princess?"

"Just like a prince carries a princess," said Robin with a nod. The memory of Marian in her simple white, lace dress and him in his borrowed gray suit and black tie flashed through his mind and Robin felt a lump begin to grow in his throat. They had been so young back then. How he longed to do that day over again. He smiled at Roland and let out a low chuckle. "I was stupidly clumsy and ended up knocking her head into the doorframe. I thought she'd be mad at me but she just laughed. Still as I stood in this spot and laughed with her that when I thought I certainly could never be happier. But that was only until I found the next spot."

"Where?" asked Roland eagerly.

"Why in the bedroom of course," said Robin. He returned them back into the room where less than a minute ago Roland had been protesting under the bed. In his mind he tried to remember just where the dresser was and quickly went to stand next to it. He turned his head to Roland with a grin and both their dimples flashed. "Now this is the most special of all my happy spots. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because this story involves you," answered Robin, lightly tapping him on his small chest. "When your mother carried you in her belly we didn't know whether we going to have a little boy or a little girl. We thought that we wanted to surprised when you were born but after a few months we just had to know. So I was in this spot when we finally called the doctor and found out that we would be having a little boy. And right then was the happiest I ever thought I could be."

They'd barely lasted a day when the doctor told them they could find out the sex of the baby. Robin still remembered the mix of joyful terror that had run through him when he heard that he'd be having a son for the first time.

He affectionately ran his fingers through Roland's brown curls. "I have so many happy spots in this apartment. Roland your mother and I lived here together for seven years, each one better than the last. We had so many good times and made so many happy memories. And in our new home you and I are going to do the same. We are going to have so many moments where we think we can't be happier and we are going to have even more moments where we're proven wrong. Do you believe me?"

"I believe you Daddy," said Roland with a firm nod.

His dimples flashed as he smiled at his father and Robin felt relief flood his chest. "Good. Now let's get finished packing."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It took another hour before they finished packing. Everything was officially out of the apartment and piled in the moving truck. Mulan had gone ahead to the new house in the truck and Robin had asked her to take Roland with her. He wanted a minute alone in the apartment.

As he stood in the center of the bare living room he was struck by just how empty it felt. Just as he'd told Roland, this apartment held so many memories for him. The good ones with Marian and the bad when he'd first lost her. They'd spent their entire marriage here. This was where he'd watched Roland take his first steps and say his first words. He'd met Regina and Henry here. When he thought of all those moments and memories he was surprised that he didn't feel sadder.

He turned the apartment key in his palm and smiled. It was just an apartment, he realized. It didn't hold his memories or his joys, just gave them a setting. Whether he lived here or not, the memories would always remain in his head and for that he was grateful.

He took one more minute to take it all in before setting his key down on the counter. It was certainly the end of an era but it was also the beginning of a new one. Hopefully one filled with happy spots.

NEXT CHAPTER: A blind date leads Robin to a personal revelation.

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