Robin sat by the campfire, morosely prodding the dying embers with a stick. The other Merry Men had long since retreated to their tents or to hidden places deep in the woods, no doubt seeking out more pleasant company than their brooding leader. As always, Little John stood watch, keeping a close eye on his friend.

"You don't have to stand over me like I'm a child," Robin snapped. "I'm not likely to throw myself into the fire."

John nodded but made no move to leave. "Aye, you won't."

Robin couldn't fault John's watchful gaze. After all, John had been the one to help Robin pick up the pieces when Marian had died, and nobody knew better than he how deep into darkness Robin could fall. Robin had blamed himself for Marian's death, and now, Robin blamed himself for not only losing Regina, but for losing Marian again, for being tied forever to a monster because he'd been too blind to see the truth right in front of him. Robin sighed and dropped the stick. Perhaps John was right to be concerned. He certainly couldn't imagine feeling any lower. He thought of the haunted look in Regina's eyes that night in her castle that she'd held the sleeping curse to her fingertips, and for the first time, he understood the desperation she'd felt.

Gentle shouts and greetings caught his attention, and his head snapped up to survey the tree line. David stepped out of the shadows, giving a casual wave to Mulan. He spotted Robin and made his way to the campfire.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked as he dropped on the log next to Robin.

"Well, sheriffs are not usually welcome in these parts, but I suppose you can stay." Robin offered a thin smile. "What brings you here?"

"Regina sent me," David replied, and Robin's pulse quickened.

"Is something wrong?" he asked pushing himself to his feet and reaching for his bow.

"No, no," David said. "Sit down. She just asked me to come out and make sure that Roland was all right after taking that potion."

Robin smiled and eased himself back on the log. "He's fine. He's asleep. I gave it to him before bed, and he was out before his head hit the pillow."

"No problems getting him to drink it, then?"

Robin shook his head. "Of course not. I told him it was from Regina."

David laughed at that, and Robin shot him a confused look. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just…if you hand a potion from Regina to most of the people in this town, they're probably not going to take it."

Of course they wouldn't. He could still see it in their faces when she walked down the street. Changed or not, the spectre of the Evil Queen haunted her. "Roland practically snatched it out of my hand. Regina always gives him ice cream, you see. He assumed it was more of the same."

David stared into the dying coals. "He really likes her, doesn't he?" he asked finally.

"She saved his life," Robin reminded him. "Roland adores her."

David nodded, words spilling out as he tried to backpedal. "I know, and I'm glad Roland loves her. It's just...For most of the time I've known Regina, she's been trying to kill me, or kill my wife. So the thought of her buying ice cream for a little boy, well, it's still a little weird to me."

"Really," Robin said, surprised. "After the way she raised Henry, that's strange to you."

"I was in a coma for the first ten years of Henry's life," David replied. "And when I came out of it, he was convinced that she was evil. So, yeah…sometimes it's strange." He paused. "Look, I know she's not who she was. And I know she's trying to be a good person, and most of the time she succeeds. I'm glad that she's the person that gives Roland ice cream. Really."

"It's your wife's fault, you know," Robin said with a smile, and David cocked an eyebrow at him. "The first time he ever saw ice cream was in the Enchanted Forest, when Regina pulled some out of thin air for Snow White." He laughed a little at the memory of finding Regina and Snow sitting on the stone wall surrounding the apple tree, shoulders touching. He could tell from a distance that Snow was upset, and he had reached out to stop Roland from charging over to them, but his son was far too quick. He'd barreled into Regina's legs, clutching at her skirt as he shrieked her name. She'd greeted him with a smile and pulled him into her lap, and he had smiled at seeing the Queen, who only gave him scathing remarks and looks of disdain, holding his son on her lap and smiling at him. He'd approached slowly, not wanting to ruin the moment, and apologized for his young son's behavior. Snow had waved away his apology and invited them to sit, and unable to resist Regina in such an unguarded moment, he did.

"I was just telling Regina about the things that I miss in the other land," Snow told Roland as she absently stroked her rapidly swelling belly. "We had something called Haagen-Dasz there, and I'd give all the arrows in Sherwood Forest for just a taste of it right now."

Roland had wrinkled his nose and proclaimed he would never eat something with such a funny name, and Regina's eyes sparkled at the challenge. She'd waved her hand and a bowl with three spoons appeared.

Three spoons, Robin had thought. Clearly I'm intruding. To his surprise, Regina passed the bowl, spoons and all, to Snow. "Have at it," she said with a smile, and Roland pushed himself off her lap and greedily reached for a spoon.

"Manners, Roland," Robin corrected. "Ladies first." He offered Regina a spoon, but she shook her head and told him to help himself. She sat there, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth, watching the three of them devour the bowl of ice cream. Once the bowl was empty, Roland had crawled back into Regina's lap and begged her to tell him more about the land without magic, and she had told him about television, and cars, and crayons. He'd hung on her every word, and Robin's heart had melted at the way she'd absently stroked his curls while she talked. Once Roland had fallen asleep in the queen's arms, Robin had asked a few questions of his own, and the three adults talked easily late into the night. After that evening, his relationship with Regina had changed. She was still tense and angry, to be sure, but not quite as guarded around him. More willing to laugh at his quips, and less likely to storm out of a room, velvet coat swirling behind her, at a cross exchange between the two of them. And it was a good thing, too, because after the ice cream, Roland badgered Regina at every opportunity for more treats from the faraway land. She never once lost patience with him, never snapped at him or ignored his requests. She'd drop everything to attend to his young son, and he could see for himself that being with Roland made Regina feel just a little bit more whole. So he'd started throwing themselves in her path whenever possible, wanting to feel the halo of affection that surrounded them for himself. To absorb the warmth of her too-seldom smiles, and to hope that one day, she'd have a smile like that just for him.

It was a terrible thing, to be jealous of his small son, but it was the truth.

Robin realized that the campsite had fallen quiet, and he looked up to find David studying him. Embarrassed, he apologized for losing himself in his thoughts. David waved away his apology. "You've been through a lot the past few weeks," he said.

Robin shrugged. "No more or less than anyone else in Storybrooke," he sighed.

David dug the toe of his boot in the dirt, weighing his words carefully. "Maybe so," he said, "but we were all under the curse. When it broke, Kathryn and I could go our separate ways with the people we loved, with no hard feelings and no permanent attachments. Zelena knew exactly what she was doing to you and Regina, and now there's a baby in the picture."

The baby. Robin dropped his head into his hands. "I don't know how I'm going to make this right for her," he said through his fingers.

David reached out and rested his hand on Robin's shoulder. "Let me tell you something I know about Regina," he said. "She expects people to leave her. She expects them to use her up and then abandon her. I'm not saying I forgive her for everything she's done, but I do know that not many people would have taken all the punches she's taken and not come out of it completely messed up. But she's stronger now. Five years ago, she would have destroyed Emma for having a relationship with Henry, and now she supports it. She'll do the same for you and the baby."

Robin lifted his head and shot a look of disbelief at his companion. "Of course she'll support it," he snapped. "She's not going to punish a child for her sister's mistakes. But I don't want her to just support it. I want her to let me back in."

"Then don't give up," David said simply. "Show her that you're the person that isn't going to leave, or disappoint, or use. Be there for her. She believed that you loved her, flaws and all. Show her that it's still true."

Robin smiled. It was still true. He loved her desperately, even when he thought he'd never see her again. And now, when she was so close and so far away, his arms burned with the need to hold her. His fingers felt the phantom feathery touch of her hair, and the words he wanted to say died on his lips every time she turned away from him. He loved her, truly and completely, and he knew he'd never love another again.

"Just, don't push it," David said with a wry grin. "She loves you, I think, but she's still pretty handy with a fireball."

As it had so many times, his heart demanded that he seek her out, fireballs be damned. He found her sitting under her apple tree in the moonlight, a book engraved with Celtic knots cradled in her arms. She didn't acknowledge his presence, but he could tell by the way her arms tightened the book over her chest that she knew he was there. He padded over to the tree quietly and eased himself to the ground next to her, his shoulder barely touching hers.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked quietly.

She didn't say anything for a moment. Then, just as thought that he should leave, that he was intruding, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I was thinking about my mother," she whispered.

"And what about her?" His arm snaked around her back, and he rubbed her ribs lightly.

"Oh, that she would know what to do. That she wouldn't let anything get in her way. That she must be disappointed in me again."

He laughed softly at that. "Regina, I've never known you to let anything get in your way. Not even me. And I know you'll figure out what to do." He pulled her a little closer. "And when you do, I'll be right here to help. In any way you need."

She didn't respond, but he felt her relax a little more firmly into his side. With his free arm, he tugged the book from her hands and laid it on the ground in front of him. He laced the fingers of his hand into one of her own. "Any way you need, I promise," he said and settled his back more firmly into the tree trunk, willing to sit and hold her like this all night if she would let him.