This has been one of the most anticipated chapters for me to write, so I'm quite anxious to see how you guys like it. There's some slightly coarser language - well the word "damn" makes several appearances, just in case you have issues with that, you have been warned. Thanks for your support so far!

A peal of laughter rang through the small stone-carved room as Roland was tossed in the air, then landed safely in Robin's arms again.

The little boy had woken from a light though so much needed sleep as soon as they entered the secret chamber, and clung to his father ever since. Robin ruffled his hair playfully, making Roland chuckle and hide his face into Robin's shoulder.

Regina wrung her hands, her eyes hot form a sharp stinging sensation. It would be so much easier to not witness this joyous reunion. Everything she saw, everything she heard, everything those two felt - she would never have. Yet every time she forced herself to look away, her eyes were irresistibly drawn back to Roland's tired but twinkling eyes, or Robin's face glowing with happiness. It was bizarre, but the clichéd metaphor was actually accurate. The broad smile seemed to be glued to his face even as he caught her eye and gave her a full smile. At the same time, a tear rolled down is cheek, and Regina turned away - but continued to see their image in the stone floor she was staring at anyway. This Robin was almost a different man to the one she'd seen so far - and yet he had never been so familiar. She had never understood him more than at this particular moment. His son meant the world to him, and without him, he would be lost. He deserved this. They both did. But that didn't stop the pain tearing at her insides, nor did it put out the sparks of envy singing her chest with every breath she took.

"Papa, I don't want to go to sleep," Roland's voice rang through the stuffy air in response to a few words his father had whispered in his ear.

"Shhh, someone's sleeping," Robin said, pointing out the little girl and her mother curled up in one corner.

"Sorry," Roland muttered in a child's whisper - a whisper so loud Regina still heard every single syllable clearly. "But we should play. You were away long."

Emotions played on Robin's face in rapid succession. For a moment, he said nothing, just held Roland closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"We will, I promise. But first you need to sleep."

Roland's eyes were barely open to a slit, yet the child still kept protesting.

"And you promise you won't leave?"

"We're going back to the Merry Men together, alright? How d'you like that?"

"Very."

"Good. But we can only set out once you've woken up. So you need to go to sleep first, right?"

Robin carried Roland back to the hides strewn on the floor and covered him with a warm fur. The child's dark eyes peeked out from above the rim, darting around the room.

Regina quickly cast down her eyes and pretended to not be there. He was adorable, and she'd felt very protective of him down in the dungeons - it shocked her how much. She smiled at the memory of his arms around her neck, seeking safety in her embrace. For some reason, he trusted her, not simply with a child's innocence - he trusted Regina despite what he had just been put through by the green bitch, who must have seemed similar in his eyes. Perhaps that was why Regina had clung to him so. But that was over now. Roland was safe and he had his father, she was nothing to him.

And she…she had Henry. Sort of. He might not remember her, but she still remembered him, and it was him her heart was overflowing with love for. Nothing could ever replace him…

Was that it, was she seeing a smaller version of Henry in Roland? Probably. Although there were plenty of differences, of course. It didn't matter, anyway. Whatever it all was, it made her heart hurt even more. It would be best to distance herself from the boy. Children had been known to end up all the worse for being around her too much anyway.

"Regina," Roland said aloud, forgetting to whisper. He'd found her in the small confines of the chamber, of course, no matter how hard she'd been trying to blend with the wall behind her.

She could just ignore him…except she couldn't. Instead, she raised her head, her mind a jumble. She met Robin's eyes in passing - he still had a smile playing on his lips. Heavens, why was she so full of tension? Was she overreacting? Was this crazy? Roland was just a little boy after all.

He wriggled under the fur and rubbed his eyes. He was barely awake, but he was a tenacious little guy.

"Will you tell me a story?" he asked. "Please?" The word came out sounding more like "pwease", and it started an emotional meltdown the magnitude of which weighed her down in a matter of a second.

Robin's smile faded a little at the sight of her, and after giving her a concerned look that only made her want to disappear even more, he turned to Roland.

"Maybe another time, buddy. How about I tell you one now?"

Concern or not, considerateness or not, it mattered nothing to her. She didn't even care whether he'd interpreted her distress correctly or mistook it for ruthlessness - in fact, it was hard to tell which would be the worse. It didn't matter. She just needed out, and fast.

Robin's quiet, soothing voice filled the room: "Once upon a time, there was…"

But what there was Regina would never know, because she dashed out of the chamber into the night.

With her ears buzzing and her head as good as bursting, she paced the courtyard up and down, swallowing mouthfuls of cold air, forcing chaos out and begging for calm to return - but this had never been easy for her. She needed to stop this whirlwind of feelings she didn't know how to deal with. She wasn't here to play happy family with Roland and Robin. She'd come to help rescue him - nothing more, nothing less.

Had her cold response to his perfectly sweet request hurt the child?

Regina groaned in frustration. Her knuckles where white with effort, her fingers clenched around the fabric of her dress. She forced them to relax their grip, and ran her fingertips across the shabby paper of the picture she treasured so much. It was the only place where she and Henry were and always would be together - besides, of course, in her heart.

Despite the agony, there was also something nice and warm tugging at her heart. Down in the dungeons, when she'd thought she couldn't go on anymore, that magic had failed her once again and she'd in turn fail the children she'd set out to free, the mere though of Henry had brought about a surge of love so powerful it pumped new strength into her veins. Magic is about emotion.

Love is strength.

If only it didn't come with such unbearable pain, such devastating purposelessness.

Still the Witch believed Regina had something left she would miss. I'm going to take everything away from you. She'd lost so much. Daniel, Daddy, Mother, and now Henry - her entire family was gone. For a very long time, she had even lost herself, and even now it was hard to sculpt herself into a Regina she'd come to want to be. When the New Curse had hit, she'd believed everything had come to an end for her.

I'm going to take everything away from you.

What could it possibly be? What did she have left? Was there anything that had made her feel even remotely happy, or at least mitigated her sorrow, in the past weeks?

Snow. Tinkerbell. Granny. Robin. Roland. The woman who was staying the night in the secret chamber with them, and had insisted on thanking Regina a dozen times over for her daughter's return. People who didn't write her off as a villain anymore.

Acceptance.

The realisation made Regina stop in her tracks. She'd never have thought this could happen, but it seemed to be true: they really were slowly growing to accept her - and she them. And that meant something to her. A small gasp escaped her. Only now did she see how much that meant to her, and how much she wanted it.

Was this what the Witch had in mind? Was she trying to undermine what little hard-earned trust people were beginning to have in Regina, to foil her attempts at improvement? The atrocities committed in Regina's name would certainly support the theory.

But what about the unicorn, and the Agrabah vipers? Those had been for Regina only. They'd been meant to unnerve her - and they had, to no end. The memory of the staged replays still brought cold beads of sweat to her brow. The heart marked the beginning of her descent into darkness, and the vipers were the administrators of her first plotted murder - not an impulsive, heat-of-the-moment kill, but one done in cold blood.

She'd done it to be free. But she'd had no love lost for Leopold. He should have seen her reservations, her anguish, and her misery. He was supposed to be a good man, and he'd done nothing but punish her for the unhappiness he had also played a part in.

Why did the Witch want to remind her of this?

To make her lose heart? To make her feel small and lost, the way she had when she became Rumple's apprentice, and Leopold's wife? Or to show her that her past would always haunt her and hold her back? That she was a villain, no matter what she did?

Regina sank onto the edge of the fountain. The marble was cold and lifeless against her body. She felt the same on the inside. The stone was cracked, the varnish chipped, and the tinkling water had long since dried up. The once gorgeous fountain was just a sad ghost of its past glory. Regina ran her palm along the jagged edge of the basin. You and me, we're the same.

On closer look, however, the mechanism didn't seem to be irreparable. If someone only bothered to clean it up a little and set it to work, water would pour out of the taps and bring the fountain back to life. The cracks would always be there, but they could be fixed. The marble would bear scars, but they'd be signs of survival. It'd still work as good as new, and be all the more intriguing for the stories it carried.

Perhaps she could be fixed, too. Perhaps she could fix herself, despite what the Witch was apparently suggesting.

Why would the Witch do it all? As far as Regina was concerned, they had never met before. The Witch had called her "sis" – Regina had heard it well, even though she'd pretended otherwise. It was rubbish, of course - she had no family left, and certainly not a sister. It had always been just her - and heavens, how many times she'd wished she'd had someone! With Cora's iron rule over her life, Regina had never been lucky enough to even have a friend, not to mention a sister. Surely she'd know. Her mother had kept a lot of things to herself, but even she would not have kept this information from Regina...surely...she wouldn't.

The way Regina saw it, there was no reason at all for this Witch to hate her more than the next person hated the Evil Queen. But that wasn't it. Whatever the green bitch had against her was personal. If only Regina knew what it was, she would be able to defend herself better.

Steps approached from behind, and Regina tensed. It could only be Robin - or a foe. She wasn't in the mood for either. She'd had enough fighting for one night. Robin would ask questions, and soul-searching was difficult enough to do just in her mind.

"May I?"

By the sound of it, he'd come all the way to the fountain. Despite herself, she was glad it wasn't another flying monkey - or so it appeared. The thought amused her, yet made her forehead crease - if the beats could take on the form of a child, they could probably take on the form of anyone else as well. They'd better keep that in mind.

"Suit yourself."

Robin sat, running a hand along the cracked stone basin much like she had done just moments before. It left her feeling strangely exposed. Exposure was always dangerous. Like fighting, there'd been plenty of this for a night as well. Robin seemed to have been noticing more than most, she'd read it in his look now and again. He'd seen too much of her before tonight, but even more now. Maybe a tiny niche of her heart was glad for it, but that wasn't the prevailing part anyway.

The wretched vipers - they'd made it all worse.

Regina rose and, without looking at him once, walked all the way to the edge of the terrace.

"How do you people deal with this team work thing all the time?" she burst out. "At least when I worked alone I didn't have to keep looking over my shoulder worrying about someone all the time. It's driving me crazy!"

"It has its perks," Robin said. "Someone's constantly looking over their shoulder to check on you, for one."

The wraith's cape hovered over her face once more, those eyes haunting her still, and she shook the memory off. What the wraith had to offer was a fate that had no appeal to her whatsoever, even in the most crushed state - you never knew what would happen to you after that demon was finished devouring your soul.

"Thank you for that," she muttered.

"And you, for protecting Roland."

Regina finally turned to him. Now was her time to see straight into his heart. When he talked about Roland, or looked at him, or ached for him - she understood. Even now she understood the depth of his gratefulness - perhaps that was why she succumbed to the urge to look away. So she nodded, and kept her head down.

"You saved him. From nightmares as well. He's asleep curled up with his monkey."

There was a smile in his voice, and indeed it was hard not to smile at the image of the child snuggled up with the toy she'd procured for him by such unusual means - one of her better ideas. Roland had seen the bees, true, but those had been done away with fairly smoothly, and perhaps the only consequence would be some fear of the insect. But from his hideout, the child hadn't seen the bloody death of the crows or the blood-curdling den of snakes, so banishing his fear of the winged monster had seemed like a good idea.

Robin stood up and began to walk towards her, and presently his boots came in sight as her head was still bowed. She didn't want to look at him, didn't want to talk to him - but her eyes darted up to meet his anyway. That niche in her heart was supposed to be negligible, so why was it winning out?

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable…for whatever reason."

Then you shouldn't have come here. But come he had. It shouldn't matter - he hadn't even done anything upsetting, really.

"I guess I'm not used to people expressing gratefulness towards me - or having any reason to feel the need to, for that matter." This time they did have a reason, but that still didn't change the fact that she had no idea how to handle it.

His look lingered, and although it wasn't prying per se, it still seemed to be burning holes into her. Inconceivably, though, she couldn't tear her eyes from him. Then Robin reached towards her in a smooth motion, and his fingers tangled in her hair - she still hadn't had the chance to fix it back into the updo ever since they'd left the wraith-marked chamber behind. A slight chill ran through her. What…? He tucked the strand of hair back to place and held up a small budding twig between his fingers. She caught the small sigh too late to stop it. He'd only removed a twig from her hair, that was all. Well, what had she thought it had been?

A small spark of panic flared up inside her, but there was something else, too - and that was even scarier, so scary she was forcing it to the very edge of her being even now.

Robin's look shifted for a moment and indicated the whole wide world, for all she could tell.

"Did you remove it?" he asked softly.

Her mind was blank.

"The protection shield….?" he added.

"I- I removed it on the way to my chamber... so everyone could come and go."

Why had she stuttered? It hadn't been an invasive question. There'd been no threat whatsoever in it. Then why was she so damn terrified?

Robin let the little twig fall, and Regina followed its path as it landed at their feet.

"Are you alright?"

She looked at him, searching for some hidden meaning in his eyes but finding none. What was he saying? Oh, the shield. He was asking about the protection charm - it had been probably what had drained her last power reserves before the wraith had attacked. He was just being considerate.

"Of course." The words came out hoarse. Just considerate? People weren't usually that, either. Then again, very few had ever stood this close to her, too. "Of course, I'm fine."

But her voice was still funny. Robin must have thought so, too, for he tilted his head slightly with a curious look. He brought his hand to her face. What, another twig? It seemed unlikely, and yet what else- ?

A finger caressed her face, and his thumb travelled down to her chin. Regina froze - only her hands shook a little. Even that stopped, however, when his hand brushed against hers. He searched her face, possibly for a response, but she was too stunned to react in any way. Robin slipped his hand into hers. The contact finally unfroze her again, but instead of slipping away like she should, she let her hand rest in his and let the warmth flood her. She should just…she should really not…but… He smelled like forest, fresh and woodsy, and his eyes looked so alive. And then there were his lips… His fingers still traced her cheek and jaw, and she found herself leaning into his touch.

A low, barely audible hum shook them both awake. Robin's hand snapped in the air as he caught something small and almost invisible in the dark in his now closed fist.

"Just a bee," he shrugged with a small smile, though he'd barely looked, and he opened his fist to allow her a peek.

Regina saw very little, though that had probably even less to do with the actual line of sight and more with the rushing sense of doom descending upon her. It was an insect of the regular size, and Robin set it free.

Meanwhile, Regina turned her back on him, crossed to the fountain and leaned on it.

What had that been all about?

They'd talked, and then he'd removed a twig from her hair - that was all. That was no reason to freak out. Those things happened all the time, and they didn't mean a thing.

When was the last time something like this happened to her?

They'd only talked.

And held hands. And he stroked her face. And she let it happen, and she leaned to him until they were so close their breaths mingled. If it hadn't been for that stupid bee, they might have actually… Wait, what? They might have what?

Kissed. We might have…kissed.

Was he a good kisser? Probably. Those lips of his…

Regina gripped the cold marble of the fountain.

Damn. She liked him. Oh, damn. When had this happened? It had been a while. The signs had all been there, except she didn't want to see them.

"Regina? Anything wrong?"

So what did she do now? Did she bolt?

"No," she raised her head defiantly, only to find him looking her straight in the face. When did he get there? And just how readable had her face been in those unguarded moments? "I…" Her cheeks burned. Oh, for heavens' sake. What was she, a smitten teenager?

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're feeling somewhat awkward right now, milady." The impish glint in his eyes and his half-grin were vast evidence of a jibe, but instead of some sharp-witted, or even flirtatious retort, Regina found herself too busy fighting the urge to caress those dimples of his.

What the hell was wrong with her? This had certainly not happened before. Was this getting worse? Or was it just because she'd finally admitted there was a…something…there?

Robin's smile faded at the slight frown on her face, and those startling eyes of his bore into hers. Foolish thoughts raced through her mind: what if she kissed him? The thought sent a jolt of panic through her, yet there was also a warm tingle in her stomach. If he pushed her away, at least this nonsense would end before it even started, and she wouldn't have to wonder anymore.

Before she could make up her mind, Robin stepped to her and laid a hand on her cheek. Her breath hitched at the touch. He was so close. Did she want him this close? No…she wanted him closer. Damn. What was she getting herself into?

She took his hand, pulling it away from her face and holding it in both of hers.

"Regina?" he said softly - she could barely hear it, the word was just a breath of wind.

Anyone else would already have seized the chance and dived for the kiss. Clearly, he wasn't just anyone. Or did he not want to kiss her? Maybe this was all in her head. Maybe he wasn't the least bit attracted to her. Or maybe he was - she was attractive enough - but still wasn't interested. Yes, that had to be it.

She looked up at him and missed a heartbeat at the intensity of his look.

He did want to…and he wasn't rushing it. That had to mean something, but she couldn't bear finishing the thought just now. Another thing she couldn't bear was the piercing blue of those warm eyes. Heavens, she was blushing like a little girl. Her gaze dropped to his hand still in hers just as his other one came to rest lightly on her waist. Without realising it, she moved closer to him. His fingers entwined with hers, and she rested her hand on his wrist, still not meeting his eye.

His sleeve slipped a little. A small jolt of power ran through her. A flash of black glimpsed from the corner of her eye later, she retracted her hand. No… She was jumping to conclusions, this was absurd...impossible. Wide-eyed and with her heart beating wildly, she slowly pushed the sleeve further up his arm. She gasped.

A tavern door, the glow of fire and pixie dust, a man's back and his outstretched arm bearing a strange picture. The anticipation, the nerves, and above all the fear. The door slamming shut, and the night air filling her lungs as she'd run from a fate she couldn't bear hoping for.

No. No, this couldn't be!

The rush of blood in her ears deafened her. Her heart froze and her skin erupted in goosebumps. She pushed him away wildly, pulling back from his touch.

"Regina," Robin protested, steadying himself after he'd been knocked against the fountain's black stone. "What ha-?"

She turned around and, never a care for how she must have appeared to him then, ran towards the palace.

She didn't stop until the winter garden. The bench was damp and covered in dead leaves, but Regina only saw black ink on skin as she sank onto it. The image floated before her eyes as if it had been burnt into her retina, no matter how hard she tried to block it out.

The man with the lion tattoo. Robin was the man from the tavern from all those years ago, the man she'd run from without ever even having talked to him, because she'd been scared out of her wits.

And now they'd met again. They'd been travelling together for a while, he'd been right under her nose, and she'd never even known.

And, worst of all, she had feelings for him.

No. This had to stop. She didn't need any of this. There was no place for love in her bleeding heart, and certainly not now any more than then. Especially not for anything so…big. And scary. And most likely not meant to be anyway. Tinkerbell had been wrong, she couldn't be happy. Evey time it seemed she might, she'd lose all that mattered.

Stupid pixie dust for having led her to him in the first place. Stupid Tinkerbell for showing her a possible fate Regina still couldn't bear thinking of. Stupid tattoo. Stupid Robin for being so kind and attractive and passionate. Stupid feelings for occurring uninvited. Stupid, stupid Regina.

Why'd he come back for her? Couldn't he just mind his own business? And why, why did the pestilential man come out of the hidden chamber after her at all? Hadn't it been for that, she'd never know about the tattoo, she'd never have realised she was interested in him this way...or any way. She'd just wanted to be left alone.

She was alone now. There was nothing but darkness and the eerie shapes of shrubs and trees outside the cracked glass dome of the garden.

Robin hadn't followed her here.

His fingers beat a steady, nervous rhythm on the bark of the tree he was leaning against. He glared at the fountain partly covered by branches. Perhaps he should have chased after her after all, instead of changing his mind after just a few steps. No, it was better this way. What could he have done anyway?

He seemed to be getting nowhere with her at moments like this, when she was extremely distressed. She'd either deny or lash out or hide, or a combination of those. At least until now he'd mostly been able to see what had triggered her reaction: memories of her son, the gruesome fate of the unicorn, the village in ruin - he knew little about what exactly went down inside her, but he knew it had to do with her past. This, now, however - he was left entirely in the dark.

What could have upset her so? True, he'd seen her pull back when someone got too close before - that was why he'd chosen to probe so carefully. He hadn't even kissed her yet, though they'd been close.

He swallowed. It was hard to stomach - sure, she was attractive, and very much so, he'd seen that right from the start of course, but this was more than that. Back there with the wraith, when the air had been punched out of him at the thought of having come too late, something had finally clicked into place. What exactly it was remained to be figured out... Or maybe not, after tonight.

Robin pushed up the sleeve of his tunic and squinted at the familiar ink drawing. Absurd though it seemed, it had been his tattoo that had sent Regina to flight. Did it mean anything to her? As far as he knew, the tattoo had no special significance other than the very personal meaning he attributed to it. Perhaps it had woken some memories in her, though, like the unicorn and the snakes must have. If so, hopefully she'd be able to work through this, hopefully it'd all be cleared up.

Robin's feet itched to go after her. To do what, exactly? To offer her comfort? To see if she was alright? What could he possibly say or do? Besides, he'd already followed her to the courtyard, and what good had come out of that?

Well, that had been different - Roland's presence definitely made Regina think of Henry, and Robin's luck at having found him of her own hopeless situation. He should have paid more attention - but he was so happy. And what could he have done to ease her pain?

What could he do now? It would be the third time tonight that he'd follow her where he wasn't supposed to. The first time had been fortunate - the wraith had been chased away. The second time had been a fiasco, though. The third time, he would just respect her need for privacy.

Robin's legs moved reluctantly across the lawn and the courtyard, and through the secret door. Roland was sleeping peacefully, so was the mother-daughter pair. Regina wasn't back yet. Not that he'd expected her to have returned, but his heart still sank a little. They'd both be calmer in the morning. They'd work this out in the morning.

Even as Regina was marching back to the secret chamber, Tinkerbell's voice shaped into words of reproof and rang in her ears, as if the fairy was in fact not miles away doing who knew what, but actually by her side, chiding her for what she was about to do.

Regina was running again. Her pride suffered at the thought, and not just her pride. Part of her knew she should stay, part of her even wanted to stay - but still the fear was stronger. She had nothing. Even if she could have something, could it be good enough? Not for her - good things were always snatched away from her. And never without Henry, anyway. And it was better to have nothing than risk gaining something only to lose it all again.

Her hand went out in the blackness of the chamber, a spell ready to muffle the sounds of her arrival and immediate departure. In the end, she just let her hand fall back to her side.

There wasn't much to pack, just a bag to grab and go. No one stirred. Perhaps Robin wasn't even back yet. Perhaps he was asleep. She gave herself a moment to try and make out his breathing and Roland's - but she couldn't look at them. Regina moved to the door, her boots louder than reasonable on the stone floor. Still, no one stirred.

No one seemed to miss her after all. Maybe Roland would ask after her in the morning. Maybe Robin would look for her. Neither would find her anymore.

Come morning, she'd be long gone.

On a side note, the "almost kiss" scene, like the rest of the chapter, had been outlined long before the sneak peek with Regina and Robin in Storybrooke of 3x15 aired, so the fact that there are certain similarities is quite amusing to me. The actual scene with Lana and Sean is of course far more perfect than my version could be, but I hope I didn't do too badly anyway. :)