Hello! Just a quick point: for those of you that don't like the Robin arc never fear because it ends in this chapter. I just wanted to give it a try, sorry to any Robin haters! Anyway, we are nearing our epic climax very soon, stay tuned! Another plot bunny came to me the other day (thanks April for inspiring it 3 ) which I am VERY excited about. Thank you to everyone that has kept reading- it is much appreciated. (Sorry the updates are so sparse)

Chapter 9

"Why were you so angry?"

"…"

"Emma. Why were you so angry at Leopold?"

The fragile man still lies between them, shielded by the night's shadow and two women desperate for… for something.

"How long before he wakes up?"

"Emma, answer me. Why were you so angry at Leopold?"

The blonde sighs. "Not angry, Regina. Livid."

"Fine. Why were you livid?"

A bitter laugh escapes the woman. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"No. So tell me."

"I… I can't."

And then Emma Swan's walls tower too high for anyone for climb: an exterior of darkness and fear. Regina shakes her head and focuses her gaze on Robin's steady breath. Silence consumes them like a blanket and it is too smothering, too unnatural.

"You know we have to erase her memory right?"

"…"

"Emma. We have to erase her-my-oh you know who I mean!" the brunette exhales, frustrated.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Emma," Regina sighs, messaging her brows in exasperation. "We have to."

"No you don't. I said no."

"Emma, please. You can't ke- EMMA!?"

Darkness has enveloped the other woman, the only sounds reminding Regina that the blonde is still present are sporadic 'NO's' in between flames of ash. Frightened, she gathers her magic and begins to stream light in to the tumbling mess.

Nothing.

"No. No no no no no no no." Emma is crying now. No, gasping. As if the dark magic is suffocating every trace of humanity within her. Pale hands scratch at her marred face, clawing at the very mask that portrays her newly adopted darkness: an animal that has accepted its fate and has curled up to die.

Regina sinks further in to the ground, afraid to take her eyes off Emma in case it is her frightened gaze providing the blonde's only shard of stability. Tears threaten to graze her cheeks and Regina realises that she has never felt more hopeless in her whole life. Pushing past the dark clouds that blossom in to an angry flower with every rise and fall of Emma's breath, Regina's hand finds the sharp curve of the blonde's spine. Come on Emma. Come back to me. She applies a gentle pressure, highlighting her presence in a desperate attempt rescue the strangled form. Come on Emma. Come back to me.

Time compresses in to an agonising wait for both women: Emma, for the wave to pass, and Regina, to grab hold of the humanity that is dissolving and .go.

And then it stops.

Regina fights back at a sob as Emma lifts her head. Her skin is practically translucent now; only raw eyes imply a 3D form. A thin smile cracks across the blonde's charred lips.

"Sorry you had to see that. They happen quite often… I guess it is like me becoming more and more like Rumplestiltskin," Emma croaks, reaching out to pat Regina's hand. She barely feels it. More silence passes. And then, like before, Regina breaks it.

"Emma. I- why don't you want me to erase Regina's memory?" It is a gamble, Regina knows, but she can't understand it. She just needs to know. Perhaps for reasons she cannot even admit.

Emma closes her eyes and takes a breath. She holds it for what seems like an eternity to Regina, before speaking her next words. "I just don't want her to forget me."

Regina swallows and, capturing Emma's desperate gaze, she speaks with more sincerity then she ever has in her whole existence.

"She doesn't."

…

Emma has three more panic attacks as the night progresses then slowly mutates in to morning. The sun begins to stagger in jagged streaks towards the three figures, emerging from the blackened night. Regina, who has not slept at all, allows the sunlight to usurp her senses. A light snoring sound can be heard from her right. She rolls her eyes inwardly. Even in this dire situation, she still sleeps like Leroy passed out in a cell. Still though, it is inexplicably more comforting then the cries of the blonde's previous waves of transformation (as Regina has decided to label them). It calms her somehow, determining the cause and naming it.

"What on earth?"

Regina jumps and swivels her head to face a very bedraggled Robin. His eyes bore in to hers accusingly as he tries to separate fact from fiction, before realising that it was all fact. He stares at Emma's sleeping form too and practically recoils in fear.

"What are you doing with her!?" he shrieks, shaking his head frantically.

"Robin," Regina says calmly, "You are healed now. I understand you're confused but I need you to stay still."

"STAY STILL? YOU'RE A WITCH TOO! BOTH OF YOU!"

Regina winces at his frantic yelling. "Please, Robin. I need you to do this."

Stilling only for a moment, the brunette takes the opportunity to hum the words of a forgetting spell.

Robin's eyes shut in response and Regina allows herself to touch his chin in a show of affection. I'm sorry Robin.

And then, when he opens them, he is gone.

…

Emma finally awakes as daylight fully eradicates the darkness. She looks at Regina from beyond a web of eye lashes matted together by tears. Again, a crack of a smile can be seen on her veiled skin.

"Did Robin go back okay?"

Regina nods. She leaves it at that.

"I think it is best if you remain hidden when we see the queen. I don't know if you're… stable… enough."

Emma stiffens but agrees anyway. "Yeah. You're probably right."

"Aren't I always?" the brunette surprises herself at attempting humour.

"Debatable," Emma quips, smirking at Regina's raised eyebrow.

"Emma you'd be dead at least ten times by now if it weren't for me."

"Funny you should say that, your majesty, for I was just thinking the exact same thing. You'd be dead at least ten times by now if it weren't for me."

Regina snorts. "Please."

Although…. It has never truly occurred to the brunette just how pivotal Emma has been in keeping her alive. Keeping Regina alive, preventing the evil queen from usurpation.

"She'll be here soon," Emma says, cracking Regina's thoughts.

She nods. "Yes. I should go… and wait for her."

"Yes. You should."

Regina doesn't move.

"Regina?"

"Emma?"

"I…. er thanks."

"Thank you for what?"

Yet Regina is not met with an answer: instead an empty silence where Emma's presence had been. Once again the walls are up. The brunette rises, stretching her legs and wincing at the clicks behind her knees. Emma Swan you are a nightmare.

She begins to walk through the town. From all directions, grumbling bodies begin to emerge from behind the closed doors. Regina watches in amusement as one man is thrown out on to the paved slabs by an outraged wife. Children's laughter can be heard by a cart of fruit, giggling as they tease the owner in to thinking they are stealing. It is only when the sounds subside that Regina notices the royal carriage grinding to a halt just fifty metres away. Mouths are agape as the King and his prisoner walk hand in hand to the front of the large crowd congregating beneath their feet. Regina shrinks in to the bodies, attempting to become one herself, as the King addresses his subjects. They are smiling at him; nodding, hypnotised by his apparent charm.

Or hers.

The Queen is as equally enchanting draped in regal finery, smiling outwards at the enamoured peasants. But her eyes are dark and searching, ripping apart the crowd. Regina lifts her head ever so slightly to catch the young woman's gaze. Her smile still remains, plastered on her face like an ancient painting, as she connects with Regina.

The crowd begins to dissipate, waved on by the King who is climbing back in to the carriage. Her former self whispers something in his ear before sliding off toward Regina. The King growls at her, angered, yet she doesn't turn round. Regina closes her eyes, willing him not to notice her shadowed form. She blinks tentatively. And again. And again.

But the Queen is gone.

"Looking for someone, dearie?"

"Emma…" she growls, turning to face the blonde.

Yet the figure is not blonde. Or Emma.

She begins to tremor slightly as her eyes attach on to his wicked smirk; the glint of his reptilian eye, betraying every hint of humanity that somehow still caresses his breath.

No.

"Oh but yes, dearie. Did you miss me?"