Long time coming, but here we are. The next bit ;)

The feeling between them had been chilly the entire ride home from the club and Mary-Margaret could feel the guilt bearing down on her as they clambered up the cold, iron-rail stairs in their walk-up. She knew the air was thick with tension and yet startled as the door slammed behind David. The hour was late and the apartment was cold, chilled from the living-room window left ajar. David's posture was rigid as she turned back to him, watching him from where she stood dumbly between the plush ivory sofas.

She didn't want to admit to herself what had happened; she'd tried too long and hard to bury the thought.

"What is it now?" She let out a breath, tired and frustrated as David stalked across the room, refusing to meet her eye. "What have I done to make you so angry?" She begged as he reached for the window and latched it closed, shutting out the impending storm. "David, I don't understand." She did, but that part of her that loved her father wanted so desperately to believe it all in Regina's imagination.

He whirled around to meet her, his eyes aflame and his heart churning, screaming for answers. Mary-Margaret was anything but cruel, if anything the people that knew her would describe her as just, sweet and pure as the first snow. So naturally it baffled him that she constantly refused to see in Regina what he saw; refused to see in her own father, what the rest of them could.

Perhaps the answer was in the question; who wanted to see their own father in such a detestable light?

She was an intelligent woman, beautiful and brave - it was part of why he had fallen in love with her. But she refused - wore blinders to fight off the truth of it. She didn't want to admit what he had done.

David knew it was time. It was going to hurt and it was going to tear down the delicate facade that kept her holding on to the one parent she had left. But if Regina was to heal, if they were all to heal, Mary-Margaret needed to accept the truth she tried so hard to keep buried.

"We need to talk about what happened."

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing happened, David," She shrugged, dropping to sit on the sofa. "Regina overreacted, like she always does."

"No!" He boomed, louder than intended but with the exact amount of force he needed to startle her attention. He crouched before her, grasping her hands between his and letting her see the pain that whirled in his eyes.

Tears sprung to her own and he knew; he knew there was no way that she was completely blind to it. He could see the guilt there as sure as he felt it in his own heart.

"You know she didn't, Mary." He sighed. "You know what happened."

"They parted, they divorced," Her voice hitched. "I remember, David, I was there. But he still cares about her."

A tear fell from David's eye as he caressed her forearm, steadying himself if not her. "No," He breathed, his voice lower than a whisper. "He never cared about her, that is the problem." He looked back into her eyes. "Mary, can't you see what this is doing to her?" One hand dropped to her knee and he squeezed. "Like you said, you were there, you saw."

"That's just it, I didn't see. All I have is her word against his and I get it David, she's your friend," She gripped his hand. "But he's my father."

He could see the look in her eyes change. He could see the fear there - she wanted so badly for none of it to be real. But she knew in her heart, against her want and judgement, that everything she hoped to be a nightmare of her youth, was true.

"She's five years older than you, Mary, only five years and he treated her like she was nothing." His face twisted and the pain he felt for Regina whirled in his blue eyes. "He treated her like his prize, like his plaything." He spat the words and she flinched, trying so desperately not to hear them but it was impossible. "And Mary," He pressed his lips together tightly, touching her cheek gently. "You lived in that house too, you must have seen."

"I," She opened here mouth to respond but no words came out. Images flashed in her mind - her father's broad hand wrapped around Regina's wrist. Shouted words down hallways or a dull thud in the middle of the night. She recalled one morning when she'd dashed into Regina's bathroom to borrow one of her soaps, only to see the woman covering a bruise with heavy foundation.

Her breath caught in her throat. She sobbed, dropping her face to her hands as he swiftly moved to the sofa and wrapped his arms around her.

She hadn't wanted to see, that was the problem. She and Regina had never really seen eye to eye. She'd resented her for her age, for dating her father when she was closer to her own age. She resented that she wasn't her mother, that she never could be and that, to her appal, she didn't want to be. Regina had too much set against her from the moment they'd met that Mary-Margaret had never wanted to see what was really going on, even though it was right there.

"Oh David, what do I do?"

He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her and rubbing her back as her shoulders shook with the force of her tears. "You start to make amends."

She wept, clinging to him tightly for fear he would disappear. He kissed her brow and hugged her tightly, comforting her until the sobs ebbed away. She didn't know how she was going to make amends with Regina. There was so much they'd never cared to know about one another.

When she urged him to their bed he stood firm with his kind eyes drawn to their hands.

"Will you hold me tonight?" She sobbed, worried he would disappear as she slept. She feared he would run to Regina and never return - it was what she had always feared.

David shook his head. "She's my dearest friend Mary and you hurt her; for years you have refused to see what has damaged her. I let it be for fear of driving away your father's love. We've both done wrong here." He stood in the middle of their living-room, drowned by the sound of wind and rain as he wrapped his arms around her once, kissed her forehead and stepped free of her arms. "I love you and I will be here when you wake. But neither of us deserve that comfort, not tonight."

Robin pulled the car into his driveway and shut the engine off. He pulled the keys from the ignition and went to get out, but Regina's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Can we, just sit here for a minute?"

Robin smiled gently, answering her with a quiet, understanding voice. "Yeah, we can."

He wanted to know what it was that had driven her to get drunk in the park in the freezing cold and if it meant sitting in the car for the whole night, just waiting, he was going to do it.

They sat silently side by side; the rain falling on the roof of the car was rhythmic, cascading down the windows and reflecting moonlight onto their faces. Robin chanced a glance every now and then, seeing that same moonlight reflected off the tears that marred her cheeks.

Her expression changed so rapidly from hurt to frustrated that he wasn't sure what else to do but to wait it out and see if she wanted to open up.

Thunder clapped and lightening struck, but they sat there in the dark, listening to nothing but the rain. Neither of them bothered to move - they just sat there in the car, outside the house, waiting for the other to speak.

Regina watched the small child in the rearview mirror, noting how he hugged a small stuffed animal tight to his chest and snored so softly she could only just hear it over the rain. The sight amazed her and confounded her and she could feel her heart, beating against her chest. The cold seemed more prevalent when she looked at his sweet, dimpled face and she pulled Robin's coat tighter around her shoulders, slouching down in the chair as if to hope she could hide from the world.

"What happened?" Robin's soft, gentle voice still managed to startle her, even as the thunder rattled the car.

"Mary-Margaret happened," She spat and Robin flinched, startled by the venom in her voice, even as her facade cracked just a little and another tear broke free.

Regina sniffled, running the sleeve of the coat under her nose before holding her wrist out before her, realising what she'd just done to his coat and sheepishly meeting his eye. "Sorry."

"It's alright," He chuckled and she turned to look straight ahead of her.

They drifted in to silence again for a few stretched out moments, interspersed with the pattering of heavy raindrops and the rustling of Robin's coat on Regina's shoulders.

"Have you heard of Leopold White?"

Robin blinked, meeting her eye for a moment as he attempted to place the name. "Yeah, hot-shot defence lawyer, right?"

She cleared her throat. "My ex-husband."

"Really?" Robin blinked but when Regina saw no judgement there, she chose to continue.

"I didn't love him." She shrugged. "I mean I thought I did, but," She swallowed and though Robin's eyes never left her, she couldn't bring herself to look up at him as she spoke. "I'd lost sight of what love is, if I ever really knew."

"What happened?"

She shrugged, snuggling into the coat a little deeper. "Parties, gifts, being shown off to the elite in expensive ball gowns and heavy jewellery." She sighed. "Part and parcel to the scars and the bruises, I suppose."

"Regina, I," Robin reached out for her hand, just brushing his thumb across her fingers as she pulled away.

"Mary-Margaret brought him by the club tonight," She sighed. "I hadn't seen him in a really long time and I thought I was okay, you know. But he cornered me in the back and I don't know," She shook her head. "I've never really been that scared before."

"I'm sorry, I," Robin started.

She cleared her throat, cutting him off; doing her best to avoid placating sympathies, even from him. "We almost made it big last year, did you know that?"

"You mean the band?" She nodded slowly, staring ahead of her as he watched the side of her face, intently.

"Yeah," She tipped her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. "We had scouts coming, a huge label was ready to sign us and we were so excited, I was so excited - I mean, I was free and we were doing really well and I was happy."

"So what happened?"

"Daniel," She breathed, letting the name fall from her lips like a benediction, a prayer, a sombre recitation. She sniffed, letting a tear run down her cheek unchecked. "There was an accident and he," She looked down at her hands and Robin had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. "He didn't make it."

"You haven't spoken of him before." They continued to watch the raindrops on the windscreen as Regina mulled over her words, no doubt considering how much she was willing to share.

"He's difficult to talk about." She breathed. "He was the only person I think I've ever truly loved." She sighed. "He genuinely thought he could save me from everything."

She met his eye for a moment and Robin saw something flicker there, something he hadn't seen in her before. There was light in her eye, there was hope. Not all was lost even when the shadows took her once again and her eyes turned out to the street.

"When he died, I didn't know what do do with myself. I didn't know how to be and trying to hide from that, I turned into a monster."

"You're not a monster." Robin sighed, reaching out to grasp her hand that rested in her lap. His coat was too big for her, falling over her hands and covering her knuckles; it swamped her, but the warmth and smell of it had her willing to let those coarse fingertips hold her hand firm and reassuring.

"Everything I've touched has been destroyed," She sobbed. "My marriage to David, to Leo, the band, the club," She pulled her hand away from his, twisting her fingers to get free when he was reluctant to let go. "Don't hold on too tight or I'll destroy you too."

"Regina," He sighed. "You're not going to destroy me."

"You don't know!" She hissed, leaning away from him, pressing her back into the door. "Everything I've loved has been taken or stolen from me, Daniel is gone," She sobbed. "I can't be in a room with Leo without turning into a frightened child," She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "Henry…" She choked on the name, letting it fall from her lips with nothing further to it, ignoring how his brow furrowed at the name he hadn't heard. "I can't do this anymore."

"Regina," He reached out, tentatively touching her fingertips with his, letting her be the one to allow the contact. When she turned her hand over, letting his fingers rest against her palm, he took that as permission to intertwine their hands. "I'm here, Regina, I'm not running away." He smiled as she looked up into his eyes. "I want to help you."

"I don't know if you can."

He smiled softly. "At least let me try."

Regina stood in the middle of Robin's living-room. She was doused from head to toe from their dash from the car to the house, dripping heavy droplets into the plush carpet as she waited with tense shoulders, for Robin to return.

He'd disappeared down the hall with his sleeping son bundled in his arms with whispered words that he'd be right back. Regina had nodded, smiling nervously as she twisted the sleeve of his jacket in her hand.

She looked around, studying the humble little place with a keen eye. The room was surrounded in bookshelves full of leather-bound volumes and children's books with bright spines. On one shelf stood a stuffed purple giraffe next to a Shakespearean bust and scattered in the far corner was a half-finished tree house community made entirely of lego.

Cushions piled high on the rich leather sofa and a plush nook filled the bay window being rattled by the heavy rain.

It was a sweet, lived-in home with pictures of Robin and his small boy, scattered around the room; she saw no pictures of the boys mother, which was curious but not altogether strange.

"I got you something warm and dry to wear, if you like." She spun around, looking down at the shirt and sweats he held out to her. "The pants might be a bit big, but there's a pull-string. I'm sorry I don't have any in your size."

"These will be great, thanks."

Robin edged around her, pulling at the couch cushions. "I know it's not much, I'm sorry I don't have more but it's just the two of us here and on a community college salary, a moderately comfortable sofa bed is the best I have, as far as guest accommodations go." He smiled a charming white-toothed smile that almost glowed in the moonlight and Regina felt her cheeks flush pink as she coyly looked down to her feet.

"My options aren't altogether marvellous at the moment," She smirked. "So it's lovely."

Robin cleared his throat, remembering the look of fear on her face when he had offered to drive her home; where she'd have spent the night alone with her demons and whatever bottles she'd managed to stash in secret places before committing to her sobriety.

"If you need anything," He turned, gesturing up the hall where the soft sound of twinkle-twinkle-little-star could be heard and the light of a rotating star lamp spilled out onto the carpet. "I'll be just up the hall."

"You've done a lot already," She smiled. "Thank you so much for understanding."

"It's what I'm here for," He reached out and squeezed her hand. "I'm your sponsor, Regina and I genuinely want to see you come out the other end of this." He gave her hand another squeeze before gently releasing her. "Good night."

He turned to leave, making it halfway up the hall before Regina's voice called him back.

"You're four years sober, right?"

He nodded.

"What got you through it?"

Robin's eyes turned from her to the twinkling starlight floating through the hall and the delicate song coming from his son's bedroom. She didn't need him to say it out loud and when he just smiled, she nodded her head and watched him turn and head down the hall, disappearing into his room.

To Be Continued.