This was written for OQ Prompt Week

Prompts: Missing year Regina harms herself & Robin finds out; After Regina experiences sexual harassment Robin reaches out to her. (#28 #48)

Robin Locksley is not a stupid man and not a blind one either. He knows the signs, has studied them all those years ago in the Enchanted Forest for far longer than he would like to admit. He hadn't been sure then, only a growing suspicion telling him that something was off until he finally sought Regina out and confronted her aboutit. Now though, now he picks up those little signs immediately. What others would write off as nothing has Robin on high alert. It's different now, at least the reason is, and the way, but it's the same.

Then it was flames.

Tiny flames at the tip of her fingers, which would do way too big damage to the soft patches of skin they touched. She tried to hide it, of course, didn't want anybody to see how weak she had become, after losing Henry. She wasn't weak, not to him, never to him. And she managed; at least for some time. Long sleeves kept her arms covered, out of sight for anybody who dared to take a closer look at the queen. Robin didn't know then, how could he? Winter was only starting to turn into spring and it had still been too cold to go without proper garments, but when the snow had finally melted away to give way to the brightest of flowers and he was starting to hand Roland hats to spare his delicate skin from even the most minor sunburns, he became very aware of the fact that Regina was still wearing the same long sleeves every day. He'd always paid attention to her, had seen the slump of her shoulder, the never fading sadness in her eyes and how she only ever smiled, really smiled, for his boy. Then he noticed, the thin layer of sweat starting to decorate her brow more often than not and she must've been so hot under all those layers, but the sleeves remained.

That's when he became suspicious. He knew there had been something wrong with her, but he never addressed her, too afraid making her push him, them away. So remained silent, until he was actually sure Regina was harming herself. Searching for the thin telltale scars, he had often seen on his mother wrists as a boy. Regina wasn't oblivious back then, pulled on the fabric covering her arms whenever she caught him staring and brushing of comments about how hot she must be. Until the last wisps of cold air, that had been her salvation on so many days, disappeared completely and made her feel like she was carrying her own personal sauna. It was then that Robin saw her scars for the first time. She had been playing with Roland, running and chasing after the boy, until she felt the need to cool down a bit, forgetting the marks on her skin and rolling up her sleeves.

He had been looking out for cuts, but what he found was burns. What looked like to be hundreds of them scattered over her arms. Some of them old and almost rosy, some brown where the newly dead skin was starting to heal. Robin was going to confront her about later that day, but Roland had already taken the queens hand in his to yank her arm into his view for inspection, asking who hurt his majesty and nearly beginning to cry.

She had fled that day, closed herself into her bedchambers, inflicting even more harm upon herself, before she had opened the door to Robin and accepted his help.

Now it's scrubbing.

It's only been a week since that night. A week since she went out for drinks with Emma and the others. A week since that drunken bastard had tried to force himself on her, hands and tongue wandering to various places of her body. Emma and Snow had brought Regina home that night, told him about what happened and how they found her pinned against the wall by that asshole and trying to fight him off. Her shoulders had been bruised where insistent hands had dug into her skin, there were marks on her neck and neck and cleavage, blood under her fingernails. She had looked horrible and Robin remembers how he longed to comfort her, but she flinched as soon as he raised his hands to take her from mother and daughter. So instead the women had carried her up the stairs and into the bathroom, cleaning and changing her, all the while Robin stood in the bedroom waiting for her.

When they came out again Regina had been way too exhausted to do anything but sleep and so they helped her to bed, before describing the night to Robin in details.

He hates that man. Hates what he did to this precious woman. Hates how he can't even touch her properly anymore, for that man made her fear her own lover. He hates him because he took Regina from him.

Robin knows it will take time, but he feels like he's sleeping next to a ghost. They don't talk; at least she doesn't. He talks to her every night, tells her not to be afraid, not to be ashamed, that he's here to listen and comfort her, but Regina's retreated into herself and Robin can't really blame her. For now, he will just have to continue reassuring her with his words. He will do it for as long as possible.

And he is okay with that, he really is; if only it weren't for the time she spent in the bath each day. She's in there for hours upon hours it seems, taking baths or a show and emerging with prune fingers, just to do it again the next day. When she suddenly donned a long sleeve shirt in the middle of summer, his alarm bells started ringing though, for he was sure Regina was harming herself, punishing her body for something that hadn't been her fault.

He doesn't confront her right away, doesn't want to do so in front of their boys, who are already scared enough about their mother's well being, but later that night he asks her to take off her top so he can see the wounds. She refuses of course, but he pleads her to show him, tells her he loves her, wants to help her, won't see her as weak until she surrenders and slowly takes off her top.

Her arms and belly are scrubbed raw. Her skin is an angry red, only little areas in their usual olive tone, crusts all over her abdomen. It dawns on him then. All that time spent in the bathroom was spent trying to wash and scrub off her skin. He figures she first started with her belly, moving on to her arms and probably legs when it didn't prove enough. A sad sigh of her name leaves his mouth and Regina breaks out into tears.

Disgusting; that's how she feels, she tells him. Like she can't get rid of the man's hands on her, his lips on her neck, it's all over her. She feels the need to crawl out of her skin, to not feel like this anymore, but it just won't get better. She is disgusting and dirty and not herself. Robin's heart breaks for the woman in front of him and he needs to comfort her, asks her if he can hug her and does so gently when his question is met with a small nod. Her sobbing only gets worse once he has her in his arms, but she leans into him, draws her arms around his neck and just lets herself be held and he takes it as a good sign, that she isn't afraid of his touch anymore.

Thank you for reading! Reviews are very appreciated.