Guys, this one's turned out rather angsty, but there are bits of fluff in between. Thanks for your ongoing support!

One would think feet would get used to travelling miles a day. One would think, but as far as Regina could tell this wasn't the case - at least not yet. She wished they had claimed a pair of horses - apart from the footache, she had grown fond of the valiant grey. But the few horses the group had were more needed elsewhere.

Regina hadn't really expected to find herself on the road again so soon, nor with just Robin Hood for company. The Charmings could always be counted on to butt in, even in less justifiable situations, and their heated point that a larger force should be launched against the Witch had at first been met with general agreement. Until Robin had stepped up with counterarguments, stressing the Witch's forces were operating outside of the Dark Palace now. Snow and Mulan had been the first to catch on, arguing that however scattered the population of the Enchanted Forest, they needed to save what could still be saved after the Curse, the ogres, and most recently the Witch.

Maps had been drawn in the sand, many a discussion had ensued, and eventually it had been decided that Regina and Robin would continue their quest to free the captured children alone. The Merry Men, along with the dwarfs, who knew the forest well, would scout and track enemy movement, while the rest of the group headed by the Charmings would press for Aurora and Phillip's palace, seeking their help to organise a force to strike down this vicious Witch.

Robin had fallen back and was now examining the ground at the fork in the road they had just arrived at. He'd do that once in a while, which was convenient for Regina to rest a little. Mostly he'd just shake his head to suggest he found nothing of note and they'd carry on, but this time he took a good while crouched over the dirt path, and eventually rose with a frown.

"Did you find anything?"

Talking to him had become easier and more difficult at the same time now that he'd seen a more vulnerable side to her. All the same, she was glad for the change in atmosphere, and the prolonged silences - despite the easing of tension she still did not feel chatty - weren't oppressive in character as they had been before.

He didn't meet her eye but scanned the shrubbery thoroughly instead.

"I'm not sure," he mumbled. "We'd better be on our guard."

The forest thickened, and what little light managed to get through the dense vegetation was painting everything green. It became hard to proceed on the narrow, barely visible path now, and thorns and branches enveloped them from all sides. Despite the forewarning, however, they met no one and nothing for the upcoming miles.

"Someone's been here," Robin spoke under his breath just as her vigilance had begun to waver. She could barely hear him for the rustle of leaves and the crunch of their steps as he added: "Stay close."

his words irked her a little - it wasn't as though she was about to wander off. She could take care of herself, and definitely wasn't stupid enough to give them away anyway.

After another half a mile of wading through unyielding overgrowth, the path broadened a notch, even though they were still treading on weeds and vines. Robin sniffed. Then Regina smelled it, too: a waft of sickly sweet, pungent air growing ever thicker. The smell became more oppressive with each new step, and worry began to creep into her heart. The disgusted face of Little John swam before her eyes briefly.

Robin halted so abruptly Regina could barely stop herself from crashing into him. He let out a sharp gasp. A fine dust invaded her nostrils and choked her throat, and a fleeting moment of dread later she chanced a peek over Robin's shoulder. The sight made her skin crawl.

They had come upon a small clearing hidden in the heart of the forest with a dozen or so hovels crammed onto it - except they weren't there anymore. What had once been a place of retreat now lay in ruin. Blackened remnants of chipped wood stuck out from the charred grass at odd places. Hardly a wall remained standing, hardly a beam intact. A blanket of ashes covered the lifeless hamlet gone to eternal rest.

An ash particle floated on the wind and landed on Regina's forearm, cool and wrinkled.

"Wh- where is everyone?" she whispered.

There were no bodies as far as she could tell but perhaps she just didn't really want to see. There had been another village once, a bigger, more prosperous one, reduced to ashes and a pile of corpses lying sprawled one across another... Robin tore his gaze from the desolation before them and turned to her. Maybe it was her voice or her face that betrayed her, or probably both - either way, Robin made a hasty reply.

"There was no one," he said softly with his eyes fixed on her. "I know the place. It had been abandoned for ages.

Thank heavens. A few empty, dilapidated shacks were little casualty. It was time to pull herself together.

"Then why did she have it burned down?" she asked, and heard her voice return back to normal with a sense of accomplishment.

"I don't know," he said, surveying the ruins. "A warning, maybe." He stepped onto the clearing, immediately stirring up a cloud of fine black powder. "Or the disgruntled remnants of a defeated army unleashing their anger."

Regina followed, trying to tread carefully. There was something unholy about disturbing the peace of this place, even though they had only been empty buildings. As they made their way through the rubble, Regina recognised a household item here and there: a melted tin cup, a smashed mirror, the partially consumed back of a rough-hewn chair. Twisted blades of tools disfigured by immense heat lay in piles of shapeless metal.

She struggled to look forward, to direct her thoughts elsewhere. There was no point tarrying. They had a mission to fulfil.

"We'll cross the borders soon," she said. "Then we'll be in the Witch's domain." Her kingdom. Somehow, Regina couldn't bring herself to say it. It had been hers once, but now it felt alien - in many ways, it always had.

Robin froze mid-step, and so did she. The birdsong had come to an abrupt end. Everything was calm - too calm.

Endless moments passed with the two of them lying in wait behind a tumbledown wall - what remained of the only remotely well-preserved one. Not a leaf stirred. The absolute silence was a strain on Robin's ears, and no matter how hard he strained his eyes, he couldn't penetrate the surrounding thicket.

He sensed movement to his left.

"Regina," he warned, putting an arm out to stop her. "Something's not right."

Regina nodded, but slipped past him anyway. Robin pushed back a sigh: could anyone ever be so incredibly stubborn? He nocked an arrow and stepped out after her, holding his bow at the ready. Dusk was descending upon them, and Regina's dark hair and garments stood out against the settling shade.

The dogwood bush quivered. Robin drew the bow.

"Regina." He needed her to get out of the arrow's way, and he hoped she'd understand and, for once, not protest. She stepped aside, and Robin drew level with her. The bush quivered again. A rustle came from behind them, and he sensed Regina whip around. The flicker of light at the corner of his eye told him she was ready and wielding her trusty weapon - the magic fireball. But ready for what, exactly?

The answer came almost immediately. A crack of wood later, Robin found himself looking into the bloodshot eyes of an overgrown beast of brownish-grey with a bushy tail and a foaming mouth.

The wolf bared its teeth at him just as another two emerged at his side. They wagged their tails in excitement of the forthcoming clash, growling in chorus. Leaves rustled and Robin saw even more pairs of eyes glaring at him. There was no time to lose - the pack wanted blood, and they were to be their prey.

Well, not if Robin had anything to say about it.

He took aim and released the arrow, and the wolf fell in a brownish-grey heap. A yelp from behind told him Regina didn't idle about either.

"Save your energy for later," he called as he nocked another arrow. "Just keep them away from us while I take them down." Who knew what other dangers still lay ahead - situations where they might not be able to do without magic. This time he believed they could handle the wolves without it.

Somewhat to his surprise, Regina concurred. Robin nocked, drew, aimed, and released, then repeated the process again and again. It was like the valley again, except this time they were in a much less favourable position. But the wolves were falling one after the other, lifeless heaps with arrows through their necks and blood seeping into their shaggy coats.

A blow to the back of his knee threw Robin off-balance. He turned to look and felt a bloodied arrow-shaft grazing his thigh. He dropped the bow and, grabbing the arrow he had just been about to loose with both hands, he stabbed the tenacious beast with all his strength, plunging the arrow through its open snout right up to the feathers. He hissed in pain as he felt teeth tearing his flesh, but he knew it was only a flesh wound. The wolf crumbled at his feet with one eye staring vacantly into space. A sickening smell of charred meat rose in the air as it lay with its burn marks exposed.

Robin picked up his bow and retrieved another arrow. Everything was quiet, except for his own laboured breathing, and Regina's.

Thirteen wolves now lay dead upon the ash-covered ground, their blood-soaked coats almost blending in with the greyness of the charred clearing.

Then a fourteenth bounded out from behind the trees. Robin's arrow missed it by an inch as the wolf leapt into the air and knocked Regina to the ground, pinning her down with its front paws and baring its teeth in threat. Robin drew his sword and launched forward, praying he wouldn't be too late, praying the beast would not tear Regina's throat out before he even got there. He raised his arm and swung the sword, ready to deliver a fatal blow, when he heard Regina's startled cry.

"Stop!"

The wolf wasn't hurting her - yet - but was snarling mere inches from Regina's face. It had to be fright speaking - surely Regina couldn't have meant him. But in that brief moment of hesitation, the wolf turned and growled at Robin.

Regina scrambled backwards, and Robin raised the sword again.

"No, stop!" Regina yelled, knocking the sword out of his hand with an invisible blast of magic. "Both of you!"

The wolf glowered at Robin with alert yellow eyes. Robin took a step back and his hand flew to his belt. He still had a dagger and was ready to use it. Then the wolf's eyes darted to Regina, and Robin followed its gaze. Regina lashing out was what he expected, and Regina cowering in fright, even, would have been at least understandable - but the way the scene unfolded was utterly bizarre.

We don't Regina rose and held her arms out to the wolf. "Now, relax, and nobody need get hurt, Ruby," she addressed the beast. "It's you, isn't it?"

The wolf tilted its head and pricked its ears. To Robin's utter astonishment, it gave a small whine.

"Your hood - where is it?" Regina asked, brandishing a strip of bright red cloth. "It's not wolfstime now, you shouldn't be like this anyway." The wolf's tail clamped down until it eventually rested between its hind legs. Recognition flashed through Regina's eyes, and anger took its place. "It was the Witch, wasn't it?"

The wolf whined again, the sound smoothly going over into a wail that sounded almost human. What the hell was happening here? Could the wolf understand? It seemed as though Regina was actually having a conversation with the animal, as crazy as that sounded even just in his mind.

"I can try a counter-curse," Regina said after a moment's consideration, "but you must be compliant."

The wolf backed away, snapping its teeth at her. Robin's grip on the dagger tightened. But the look Regina threw him stopped him from going any further.

"Look, Miss Lucas - Ruby," she sighed, approaching the wolf "I know we haven't been exactly friendly, but it seems we're on the same side now." The wolf made no further threats, but took another step back from her all the same. A bead of sweat trickled down Robin's face. Regina swallowed and her face softened. "Besides, your grandmother is worried sick about you."

Grandmother? Could this possibly mean...? No, surely not. Unless...

The wolf whimpered, bowed its head, and made a tentative move towards her. Robin felt a flash of relief - Regina had succeeded in luring the wolf closer again. Then worry returned with renewed intensity - they were dangerously close, and if anything went wrong...

Regina seemed to search her mind for a while, then slowly raised her hand and drew an elaborate pattern in the air. Where her fingers had traced the dark, a faint glow materialised, a deep crimson that slowly spread, until it engulfed the shaking wolf completely. For a moment, the wolf was out of sight; then the glow began to fade.

The wolf was gone. The shape of a woman had taken its place, crouching on the ground. What sorcery was this? The blade in his hand felt strangely useless now, and he looked to Regina. She seemed to have an inkling of what was happening, whereas he had none. But she wasn't looking his way. Instead, she stepped to the woman and, after a moment's hesitation, offered a hand to help her up. The woman appeared equally hesitant to accept it, but she did eventually, and stood before them rubbing her forehead.

"Thanks," she muttered to Regina.

Regina's eyes narrowed, then she nodded.

Robin couldn't take it any longer - words flew out of his mouth while his brain struggled for understanding.

"What is going on here? How did- how did the Witch do this? How did you-?" he addressed Regina.

"I'm a werewolf," the woman said wearily. Her long hair hung limp and tangled and her face looked gaunt. A starved werewolf, Robin thought stupidly. "But like Regina said, I'm only supposed to turn at full moon."

"Why would the Witch care to change that?" Regina cut in.

The woman - Ruby - shook her head. "Can't say. This pack," she looked at the dead monsters scattered across the clearing, "was part of her army. As for me..." she shrugged, "maybe she thought it'd be amusing to set me against my own." A triumphant glint appeared in her tired eyes, and she lifted her head. "She didn't know I'd learnt to control the wolf though."

"Good for you," Robin said, scratching his head, before Regina could answer, "but why on earth would you attack us then?"

"I panicked," said Ruby. She glanced at Regina and rubbed her hands as she continued. "Maybe it's the clothes - you look...well, you know," she said, and Robin thought she seemed a little ashamed and maybe a tad remorseful. Then her face brightened a little. "You've talked to Granny?" she entreated hopefully. "Is she alright? And Snow? Everyone?"

Regina smiled a half-smile. "All fine. You'll find them in Aurora and Phillip's palace. Can you get there?"

Robin understood the doubtful note in Regina's voice - Ruby looked exhausted and unnerved, perhaps she wasn't fit for that kind of travel, especially on her own.

"Sure," she nodded confidently. "My wolf senses will guide me and help me steer clear of enemies." She eyed Robin and Regina with open curiosity. "What are you two up to?"

"Rescuing my son," Robin said. "Have you seen him by any chance?" If she had been cursed by the Witch to recruit for her army, Ruby might know a thing or two they'd find useful.

"Oh, he must be one of the children that bitch's been abducting," Ruby said, and Robin's hopes rose. The next words were all the more crushing, though. "No, sorry. I was with the pack, never actually at the palace. I don't really have any information to help y-" she halted and stared ahead for a moment. "Wait, maybe I do have something. We found a half-finished carcass in the woods last night with teeth marks in it unlike any animal I know."

"The Cyclopes?" Regina looked at Robin.

"Could be," he nodded.

"You could track them down - I assume you read tracks - and interrogate the leader," Ruby suggested.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Robin agreed. They needed inside information, and the sooner the better. The more details, the more effective their assault was going to be.

"Good luck, then," Ruby said to them both.

"You, too," Robin replied.

"Get there safe," Regina called after her. The two women exchanged one more look, then Ruby disappeared between the trees.

"All patched up," Regina said as she fixed the bandage over Robin's calf in place. She had done a lousy job and she knew it. "I could have done much better with magic."

"You did just fine," he assured her with a grin. She couldn't help but think he was just saying that to avoid further talk of magic. He seemed to hate it more than anyone else she'd met - perhaps, ironically, with the exception of herself as a child.

"Thank you," he added, and the gladness at that unnerved her. What was she even doing there?

The wineskin was close at hand, so she grabbed it even though she had no need of it, and because it would have looked foolish otherwise, she took a swig.

Robin took a bite of the pear he had left of his supper, and spat out a seed. Regina couldn't help but smirk.

"You're perfectly capable of felling thirteen wolves, but cannot handle a fruit seed?" she teased.

Robin smiled but didn't look at her. He gazed at the fruit in his hand with eyes glazed over by emotion, and she couldn't for the life of her fathom what had brought that about. Besides, the display made her uneasy - she didn't have much experience in comforting people, at least not in a long time. All the same, when he spoke all of a sudden, she couldn't but strain her ears, eager to hear every word.

"It's a thing," he said with a crooked smile, "that Roland and I have. See, if you eat the seeds, you'll grow a tree in your stomach."

"That is old," Regina objected in a would-be taunt, wary of the relentless assaults of emotion at his simple yet so touching story.

Robin chuckled. "Try to tell him that. He insists that I spit every single one out, and the few times I tried to convince him otherwise he seemed in such distress I finally gave up. I'm so used to it now that I do it even when he's not around."

Henry used to do that, although not as obsessively as Roland seemed to. No. She won't, she can't go there.

"What's it like on the road with a small child?"

"I realise it's not ideal for him," he said. He sounded almost regretful, and she felt a pang of guilt at having brought this out in him unintentionally, "even though he seems to enjoy the adventure. But there isn't much in the way of settling down and building something here, just as there had been little opportunity of that back home."

"Where's home?" This was safe ground - he was talking, but the topic wasn't affecting her in a profound way.

"The Sherwood Forest."

"You weren't born an outlaw," she remarked.

Robin raised an eyebrow, amused. "What gave me away?"

"Your speech. Some semblance of manners," Regina shrugged, hiding the smile and feigning scorn.

"Semblance?" he clutched his chest, mock-hurt. "I beg your pardon, milady," he suggested a bow.

He was overdoing it now, far too theatrical for her taste, but other than that she had to admit she appreciated the banter. This was a form of communication she excelled at and felt comfortable with.

"I was considering settling down once - even did for a little while," he said out of the blue, and the look on his face freaked her out because it spoke of seriousness again. Her gut was warning her of some unknown ill, and Regina found herself dreading what was coming next.

"With my wife. She was ill, and I thought it would do her good. Besides, we learnt soon after that there was a baby on the way."

He was talking about Roland's mother. Regina could think of several reasons she wasn't around, none of them good.

Robin continued, far away in mind. "I managed, by resorting to all kinds of desperate deeds, to keep her alive long enough to have Roland. She went soon after...she still had time to give him a name though."

Regina shivered. This might have taken her thoughts off Henry for a bit but the direction it was taking her instead was hardly any less stressful. Had Robin Hood spent many an hour grieving over his lost love's corpse, too? He spoke of her with such fondness... She felt a lump grow in her throat. And he wasn't helping.

"Roland kept me grounded, you know. It's amazing how a child can change you - change everything, in fact. Give you a whole new perspective. Of course I was a clueless parent at first," he grinned, but somehow even that didn't feel any less sad.

This wasn't about her. She knew that, didn't she? The man was talking about him and his son. It had nothing to do with Henry and her, nothing at all.

Who was she kidding?

Regina wished for him to stop but didn't know how to make him without being outright obnoxious. And he seemed to be far from finished.

"I freaked out at the smallest cry," he reminisced, fiddling with a stick of dry firewood absently, "dreading he might be ill like his mother. John was a lot of help - he'd had a bunch of baby sisters. Things get easier after a while, or some don't... You learn from your mistakes, though. Only sometimes the price is somewhat too high."

The insinuation hurt to the core. Suddenly it didn't matter if she were obnoxious - obnoxious actually seemed just right for the situation. But she might have stopped herself yet, if only it hadn't been for those unfortunate words coming up next.

"I should never have let him out of my sight!" Robin punched the log he was sitting on. "Perhaps I would have noticed the signs. They must have been watching him, then snatched him just as he was alone and unprotected for a moment. I feel like I failed him."

If she had only just been able to protect Henry from Greg, and then from Pan, if she had seen the warning signs that Henry wasn't Henry but Pan - what kind of a mother was she not to have recognised that? A mother who had refused the truth for her own selfish need to feel accepted, that's what kind. In the end, Henry had paid for it. They all had paid for it, including Regina. And now there was nothing she could do anymore.

Perhaps it was the onslaught of pain and self-pity. Perhaps it was jealousy of Robin and Roland for still having a chance, as opposed to her own hopeless situation. Perhaps it was all of it, all that she had been keeping bottled up for so long. Either way, all of that emotion thrown into the mixer produced a large cocktail of anger, and Regina lashed out.

"Oh, would you stop wallowing in self-pity," she snarled. "At least you get to get your son back."

Robin's face fell, and hurt concentrate stared out of his unbelieving eyes.

It was like a cold shower, like being doused in icy water. What had she done? He had confided in her, opened himself up to her, revealed the most vulnerable spots, and what had she done? Strike where it hurt most with a ruthlessness the thought of which made her want to just disappear for shame. Well done, Regina, for ruining everything - again.

And worst of all, her mortification, or whatever else there was that was wrong with her, made it impossible to apologise - there was no way she could put this right anyway.

So she turned away, pretending it never happened, pretending she didn't care, pretending this was the kind of person she was and who she wanted to be.

Regina's sudden attack left him completely baffled and deeply wounded. If he thought he could see a shred of remorse in her eyes seconds later, it certainly went as fast as it had come because she never acknowledged having made a mistake. So why had it taken him by surprise anyway? Why had he gone and confided in this woman, whom everyone had dismissed as a monster?

At that point Robin's wounded soul came to odds with the voice in his head - or was it the head? The Queen - Regina - had been, well, not exactly living up to her reputation as the Evil Queen - at least not all the time. She had in fact spent enough time not acting like the infamous, heartless monster hearsay had been making her out to be. It had felt right talking to her about Roland for some reason, and even regarding Marion he had felt a quiet understanding on Regina's part that he had rarely experienced before.

Then something had gone terribly wrong, and Robin just felt at a loss as to the reason. He sure did hope to get Roland back, and she had seemed to sympathise every single time that had come up - even at the Dark Castle, although she had tried to look unconcerned, but he hadn't been entirely fooled. So why the angry outburst now?

Dinner was an awkward affair, filled with heavy silence. Robin would steal an occasional glance at Regina. She picked at her food with little interest and seemed to be far away at one time and painfully aware of his presence at another. Then she set her food aside. She shot him a quick look and turned away again.

Robin kept his eyes fixed on her. He had been right, he was sure now. Her anger had flared temporarily and now she didn't know how to handle it. What was she hiding behind the carefully arranged mask? He 'd been aching to break the silence but felt something was off, there was something hanging in the air that Regina wasn't saying. What could he do to find out?

Regina raised her head with an air of defiance and surveyed him for a good while. What could she be thinking? He could almost feel her scrutinising gaze, and suddenly he felt anxious to pass whatever test she was putting him under. Robin took care to return her gaze with all sincerity and good intent, and hoped it would get across. He could be trusted - he just needed to make her see that.

Regina's fist clenched around a fold of her dress. She fumbled a little and eventually retrieved something small from the hidden pocket. Her fingers trembled as she began to unfold the piece of paper. She didn't look at it, although this appeared to require a lot of restraint, but handed it to him without a word.

Robin stared down at the picture in his hands. The edges were frayed and the paper creased at the folds from the dozens of times it had been folded and unfolded again. She looked different in the picture - not just the hair and garments, but especially the emotion reflected in her features - soft, relaxed and peaceful, almost dreamy. But Robin's eyes were drawn to the dark-haired boy picture-Regina had her arms around. He wore the smile of a happy, content child, and leaned into her embrace with his hands crossed over hers. The realisation tugged at his heart.

"His name is Henry," Regina said at long last with a hitch in her voice she didn't quite manage to control. "He's…"

"Your son." Robin didn't need her confirmation to know it was true. It all made sense now. Regina had a son. And she had had to leave him behind. That was the great loss weighing down on Regina that Snow had been talking about. That was why every mention of Roland had such a prominent effect on her.

"You were separated," Robin said quietly. Regina nodded. "Were you looking for a way back? In the Dark One's books?"

It made perfect sense - he had gone to look there, too, of course, and if Regina needed a portal, well, he didn't know much about those, but one thing he did know was that they were hard to come by. But for his son, he'd always look for a way.

"I…yes. No. I mean- I don't know."

The answer completely threw him. He had expected a simple agreement, and instead everything suggested things were much more complicated - but how?

"Why- what do you mean?" he asked carefully.

"It's not so simple. I cannot…" Her voice wavered. "Even if I found a way to go back, Henry wouldn't remember me," she said miserably.

She was making a monstrous effort to control herself - he knew that posture, shoulders straightened, back stretched, head up high.

"And even if he did," she managed, "it wouldn't matter - I mustn't see him. It's part of the curse that brought us here." Her voice broke again, and it was reduced to little more than a whisper. "I don't know what would happen if I breached it. I'm not risking my son's well-being. Even if it means I will never see him again."

No wonder she lost control once in a while - so would he. Actually, that might not be true. Even just the idea of losing Roland forever was enough to freeze his blood. Who knew what he might do in her place, what such a fate would do to him. He even understood her confused response of earlier - of course it would be her first instinct to look for a way back to her son...but if it held such unforeseeable risks... No wonder she had spurned his absurd bait of palaces and power - what an idiot he had been.

"I'm sorry," he said, because it was true and because to say anything else would have been empty and worthless. To his puzzlement, it seemed to surprise her. Had she been expecting him to retaliate for her misstep before? How could he?

"He's happy," she said hoarsely, and even strove for a smile. It broke his heart. "That's what matters."

"Is his father with him?" he probed gently. The boy - Henry - wouldn't have been left alone in the world, surely. Giving up on her child would have been hard beyond words, and leaving a husband behind, too, perhaps... Well, Robin just didn't like the thought one bit.

The look of confusion on her face didn't answer much.

"His father? No. Emma," she began, "his…mother." It seemed to have cost her all the will-power in the world to get the word out, and she had tripped over it several times before she did.

Something clicked at Emma's name, though.

"Wait… Isn't Neal's son's name Henry?"

The puzzle pieces didn't seem to fit: Neal had mentioned an Emma and a Henry, but they couldn't possibly be the same people - or could they? Either way, it was a remarkable coincidence.

Regina nodded wearily. "Yes. It's…complicated. Emma and Neal are Henry's biological parents. I adopted him as a baby."

"Whoa..." he sighed softly.

That explained a lot. It made him feel for her even more, actually: she had taken an abandoned baby and given him a loving home - because there was no doubt in his mind that this woman loved her son more than anything. The line of thought seemed to be getting the best of her, though, and she seemed to be fighting back tears. Robin reached for something to go on.

"So… Um… you, Emma, and Neal share a son. And - your son is also Snow White's grandson?"

"And Rumplestiltskin's. Yes. One monster of a family tree." The attempted joke was the saddest thing he had seen in a while. She braved a smile but all Robin saw was the suffering etched in her face and the hollowness in her eyes. "Of course now he only remembers Emma - one mother instead of the mess we really are."

"Regina…"

Robin wanted to offer some kind of comfort, but there was nothing he could say to make the pain go away. He rose and sat next to her. She pulled back slightly, her eyes wide with alarm and surprise at his actions, and she searched his face for some answer.

Robin began to fold the picture with the same meticulous care he had seen her treat it with. Regina watched his hands, apparently transfixed. Perhaps she just didn't want to meet his eye. That was fine, too. He took her hand and placed the photo in her palm. Regina tensed at his touch but relaxed a little as he closed her fist over the picture.

Now would be the time to let go, but instead he found himself resting his hand over hers.

Her eyes darted from their hands to his face and back again.

"Good night, Robin," she faltered, and her hand slipped from his light grasp.

Then she was gone, putting the fire between them. She never looked at him as she settled down to sleep.

Robin soon followed, but sleep would not come. He would stare into the dark for a good while, thinking about the Queen and her lost son, haunted by the image of brown-eyed sorrow burnt into his heart.

She was nowhere to be seen, and nothing was missing. By the look of it, she had neither left nor had there been a robbery.

Robin felt cold creep into his stomach. The Witch. They had entered the kingdom just before striking camp. Perhaps she already knew, perhaps she had come to get Regina, who would be her natural enemy.

Robin fastened his belt with the sword and dagger sheathed and slipped into the trees. He began to walk around the campsite in circles, small at first and growing ever larger, until finally he found a track. There was only one pair of footprints, and they were Regina's. Relief was followed by worry - what was she doing so far out of camp in the dead of night? It was dangerous out there, and she had gone to rest upset. Robin followed her trail without hesitation.

He heard it before he even saw her: heaving, heart-wrenching, uncontrollable sobbing. For a moment he just stood there, mesmerised by her bent back and shaking shoulders, stunned by the dreadful moan rising from the very bottom of her heart. He stepped towards her, ever so quietly, but she couldn't have heard him anyway for the crying, nor could she have seen him because her face was buried in her hands.

Despite all the lightness of the touch, she jumped at the feel of his hand on her shoulder. The terror in her tear-filled eyes made him retract his arm immediately. Maybe he should have spoken first. Maybe it wasn't too late for that yet. But how did one comfort someone in pain so deep, so profound?

"Regina..." he whispered, begging his eyes to speak for him, for words were failing him when he needed them most. So he chose to risk one more attempt. Now that she knew he was there, perhaps she wouldn't flip out at his touch.

Inching closer, Robin made a point of holding her eyes. The rattling sobs had ceased for the moment, and she watched him with fear and fascination merged into one. When he reached for her cheek, she didn't move - indeed, she seemed quite stunned. Almost there... His finger ran across her cheek, brushing tears away on its way. Yes, it was working...

But he rejoiced too soon. Regina's gaze shifted to his hand and she backed away into a tree trunk at the sight. Robin moved automatically to follow, when he caught the expression on her face.

Her eyes had the look of a wounded deer cornered by a huntsman, and she seemed to be pleading four her life.

He wanted so much to help, but there seemed to be no helping her now - or maybe he just wasn't doing it right, or wasn't the right person to do it at all.

Crushed, Robin withdrew his hand once more. With one long look, he turned and walked back to camp, where he sank onto the blanket heavily and stared into the fire.

Regina prayed for him to leave, and she wished he would stay. The fear was stronger, though, as it so often was.

She watched him leave the way he had come, obviously shaken by the state of her. Then she rested her forehead against the rough bark of the tree.

The tears came soon after, with a renewed force, and choked her with their salty bitterness.

Her fingers remained curled around the shabby photo as the gut-wrenching sobs made her insides ache.

Finally, she was crying.

As I said - angsty. :( I just want to hug them... Or want them to hug? Anyway, I'll try to plough on with this as soon as possible, but I no longer have chapters written ahead, so it might be longer between updates. You do motivate me, though. ;)