Hi guys! I'm around and still alive and it appears, this story is too. I hope there's not too big a gap to the next chapter. Please enjoy. Just a little one ;)

Regina felt that she was doing well. She was talking more with Emma - they suffered from a few road blocks in the first few weeks. They were both drastically different personalities that had been pushed together to serve a common goal. But Regina was pig-headed, as Emma had shouted at her, and Emma was 'as stupidly good as her stupid friend' as Regina had petulantly spat back. They struggled to get along, but overall, they were managing to keep Regina sober.

Sometimes it ended in an all-out screaming match in the alley behind the bar, but Regina's throat stayed dry and when they left each other of an evening, she was grateful Emma was just as stubborn as she was. She had trouble admitting it, but Robin's choice seemed to have been the best thing.

Robin's sponsorship was kind, gentle and well practised. He'd done it before and proven himself incredibly good at it. But for Regina, even she was starting to identify that she worked better with a firmer, less experience and less patient hand. She needed someone that wasn't going to take her shit, someone who wasn't going to back down when she smashed glasses across the counter of the bar or kicked bottle crates across the room like a child. She needed someone that would slap her right back, when she got too aggressive.

Emma was that person.

The meek and quiet girlfriend of the club-owners son, she was not. Regina hadn't really ever given Emma the time of day. She'd been there to look pretty at the bar, ply her with bourbon and keep her mouth shut. She hadn't really ever tried to sit down with her and talk to her, to find out what made her tick. But over the weeks they spent in each other's company, Regina was starting to learn there was more to Emma than met the eye.

She learned, slowly and without showing any particular outward interest, that Emma loved to read. The woman seemed fascinated by children's fairytales - mostly from the Brother's Grimm. She had an extensive collection of leather-bound storybooks that featured tales of great heroics - hope and love and courage. She'd scoffed when she saw the shelf, making a snide remark about Emma's taste. The woman had taken no offence, simply shut Regina down with an equally as acerbic quip about Regina having spent the night at Emma's because she had accidentally slipped up and was afraid she might do it again.

At least she'd identified her mistake. That was progress.

The insults and ridicule they threw at each other only caused surface burns and were never aimed at anything that would cause permanent damage. They didn't discuss how they were both orphaned, how they'd both lost a child, or how Regina was truly starting to feel like Emma's one bedroom, five-storey walk-up with the fire escape covered in pigeon poo, was starting to feel like somewhere she could be safe.

Emma didn't question Regina about what was going on with Robin. When she was with him, it was the only time of the day Emma didn't bombard her with text messages about what she was doing, where she was going, and who she was with. Both of them knew it was a little overzealous for her to be on her case, every minute of the day. But Regina had asked for it; petrified that she'd slip up again. But that didn't stop her from tearing Emma to shreds every time the constant interruptions became too annoying.

When they were both at the club - Emma stocking and cleaning the bar and Regina practicing with the band, Emma could keep a watchful eye but Regina was feeling less and less like she belonged. The clearer her eyes felt, the less foggy her brain, the more Regina was starting to feel like the life of a rock singer in a dive bar, wasn't a life that she wanted.

Before Leo, she'd studied music. She'd been so gifted and ambitious. But he had torn her down in every which way he'd known how. Every touch of his calloused, old fingertips on her skin had pulled her one inch closer to the abyss.

She hadn't felt like she was worth anything more. The club had been her escape, her place to run away and rebel from him. But the further she'd gone into that world, the further she'd gone from everything she'd wanted to be.

Every day of her life she'd suffered with the loss of Henry and every day, she'd struggled to keep her head up. But one thing after another was taken from her; her dignity, her pride, her love. She'd just been waiting for someone to take her life too, all the while not realising that she'd been doing that herself.

On her good days, Robin made her pasta and they watched cartoons on his sofa with Roland curled up between them. They didn't encourage Roland to believe there was anything else there, than Regina spending time with them both, their friend. His 'Gina. But when the boy went to bed, Robin would wrap his arms around her and kiss her gently, whispering sweet things into her ears and making her feel that the darkness in her heart, just might be able to lighten.

She always left before it went too far; she was learning to realise her limits, with his help and Emma's. She was learning that she didn't have to hold on so tight, fearing that he'd disappear. He assured her, time and again, that he wouldn't.

"I think I'm doing much better," She whispered, curled under the faux fur blanket with him on the large sofa. The TV had been turned off and they were warmed by the glow of the fireplace as he peppered kisses along the bridge of her nose.

"Is that so?" She could hear his smile in his voice.

"It's nearly been three months."

Robin pulled back, dipping his head to meet her eyes for a moment. "That is a milestone." He grinned as a blush crept up her cheeks. "I didn't doubt it for a moment."

"I did," She admitted sheepishly.

"Nah," He hugged her closer and Regina went, grateful for the warmth of his chest against her cheek. "You didn't. You just knew it was going to be hard. It's alright to be scared, once in a while." He kissed the top of her head and Regina pressed her eyes closed. "It helps you remember you're alive."

Regina took a deep breath, feeling it shudder through her chest as she hugged her arms around him tighter. She knew that he'd notice the difference, that he'd feel the change in her grasp, but he stayed silent, waiting.

"This is the only place I can remember, that I don't feel afraid."

"My house?"

"You," She breathed out and she smiled at the jostle of Robin's chest as he laughed, hugging her just a little tighter.

"You need to do something about it." Gold seethed, pacing behind his broad mahogany desk with an incredibly controlled look of irritation on his face. Neal just stared at him, confused.

"What do you want me to do, Pop? I just run the bar."

Mr Gold pressed his palms to the desk, glaring at his son.

The owner of the Carlyle was a short-statured, stately looking man never seen without his expertly tailored, bespoke suits adorned with precious gem cufflinks and silk ties.

So much of him was about power and appearance.

To appear unthreatening, to appear congenial. To appear as though he wasn't out wholly and solely for himself. The only other human being worth a dam, to Mr Gold, was his son. But that didn't stop the man from abusing the relationship within an inch of what it was worth.

On a handful of occasions, Neal had threatened to walk. But something had always dragged him back. Emma believed that it had something to do with Neal's late mother, but no one had ever been entirely sure. All they knew was that, on the whole, Neal was an entirely different man to his father, but with his father's penchant for securing ironclad deals, they never seemed to rid themselves of one another.

Neal didn't agree with his methods, but he'd also never worked up the courage to leave the Carlyle. And when it came to Neal, there was a certain amount one could push Mr Gold to concede his position.

On Regina, they'd never quite seen eye to eye.

Mr Gold insisted that he needed her as she had been - drunk, high and in his words, pliable. She was easily suggestible when she was face-down in a bottle of bourbon, her flared nostrils inflamed and her attitude burning with barely controlled rage. All he had to do was press just the right button - and he'd learned each and every one of hers - to get what he wanted from her.

But the new Regina, the sober Regina, was giving him more grief than he was willing to pay for. The problem was, the Royals still brought in more revenue than he was willing to part with. So he had few choices before him. Mr Gold only saw one, as even remotely viable.

"You're in the perfect position. The bar is what we need."

Neal shook his head. "No way, Pop. Seriously, she's been trying to come good. It's bad enough she's surrounded by drink every day."

"Case and point, my dear boy." Gold smirked. "No one will question it, when she falls off the wagon. It'll be a simple slip-up. Another one of Regina's epic failures." He shrugged, taking a seat behind the desk. "They'll all be a little disappointed, Regina will drown her sorrows even further and we'll all get what we want."

"It's not what Regina wants."

"And you'd know that, how?"

Neal glared. "You know Emma's been helping her, they're doing real good together."

"Your girlfriend needs to stay out of this."

"You know she won't."

"Then if you don't comply, my dear boy, I may just have to make her."

Neal's eyes widened for a moment and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

Neal could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his palms began to sweat. He knew what his father wanted him to do, the man never really had to spell it out for him. But the idea of it; spiking Regina's drinks, tipping her back over the line so that his father could serve his own needs, it was too far. He knew she was doing well, even Emma who had never sung the woman's praises, had told him how proud she was of her.

But then, he also knew what his father was capable of. And he knew what he was implying. The thought of Emma suffering just the smallest bit, made his heart almost beat out of his chest.

He harboured no ill-will toward Regina. In fact, there had always been something about her that he'd liked - probably her honesty, even if it bordered on rude and misanthropic.

He was being given a choice.

Emma or Regina.

TBC.