I am not dead! It has been so long that I've wrote anything so this is the first thing in months and this alone took me forever to write. I seem to have my writing mojo back now so I should be posting and writing more frequently. For those that have been waiting for this ever so paitently, thank you! I know it's been a long wait but hopefully that should change now. This isn't the best I've written before but it's been so long that I don't want to fuss about it any longer. Hope you enjoy :)
TEN YEARS LATER
The forest falls silent all around him, the only noise coming from his own heaving breaths as his eyes manically scan the area.
She was just here! He just saw her...
A twig breaks within the silence and his eyes jump to the direction. A little whimper, panting breaths that don't belong to him.
He tiptoes towards it. Knowing this forest like the back of his hand, knowing where to step, he's quiet, maybe she thinks he's gone away.
He keeps walking towards the log, to where she's hiding behind it. Getting closer and closer, quiet, quietly before...
He steps on a twig.
Another whimper, a small, scared Please...
He shuts his eyes, blocking it out. Why can't they just be quiet. It would be easier if they could just be quiet.
"I'm sorry," he says before reaching into his bag. His fingers sink into dust, grasping a handful and pulling it out.
Please don't take me to him, she cries. He can't see her face. Her back his to him, a hood over her head, body curled into a tight ball.
"I have to."
He throws the dust, watching her body fall slump onto the ground.
He climbs over the log, kneeling down beside her. It's a fight to keep the guilt away, a fight to not leave her there until she wakes up.
Her face is still concealed. Hidden by the hood that covers it. He shifts slightly, wiping the remnants of the dust on his pants. He takes a deep breath, those hands falling to her as he pushes on her to roll her over.
His heart drops as the hood and hair fall away. A line of blood falls from her nose, soil covers one side of her face where she fell.
He scrambles to pick her up, hold her against him just like he used to do. But there's no tenderness in it anymore; she's just a woman of malevolence, no true child of god. She's nothing. Nothing to him anymore.
Yet his heart is still heavy as he stands, as he adjusts her more comfortably in his arms and, as he begins to walk back towards the village, he can't help but whisper, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have returned.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.
Her hand swipes over the woman's face, shutting her eyes for good. Endless years of pain and misery, denying Regina's help everyday for the past ten years has all came down to this; a lifeless body at dawn. At least she's at peace now, Regina thinks.
"Has she gone with God now?"
Regina smiles to herself, standing up from where she's kneeled on the wooden boards. She pulls her hand from Emma's cold, relaxed grasp.
"Yes Henry," she answers the boy. "She is."
She keeps her gaze on Emma. They'll have to move her soon, she'll have to go down to the church and tell them of the woman's passing- they'll take it from her and Regina, she needs to be as far away from here as possible.
"What's going to happen to me?"
Regina looks to him then, to the ten year old boy who's life she saved all them years ago, when Emma found her, begging her to keep the boy alive. She often wondered what would happen to Henry once Emma had gone, he couldn't stay with her- it was too dangerous.
"Where would you like to go, Henry?"
She watches a fearful expression cross the boy's face. "Not with them. I don't want to go with them," he tells her, shaking his head.
"Then who?"
"I want to stay with you."
Her eyes close as she turns her head away. She feared this, feared Henry choosing her. He doesn't understand; doesn't understand what she is, how she's perceived by the world, and what they'll do to her- to him- if they find out what she can do.
It's too dangerous.
"Please, Regina," he begs, biting his lip. "I've got nobody else."
She shakes her head, her eyes still closed. Why is she even considering this? Considering taking him with her? It's a fool's decision. Yet there is someone who could probably care for the child, one of the last people she can trust, someone who will look after him just like she would, if not better.
But of course, it means going back there.
Regina looks back at Henry- still standing there by the door, hiding away in the shadows.
"Pack your stuff, Henry," she says with a sigh.
"Why? Where are we going?"
"All Hallow's."
"Where's that?"
Hell.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
It's business that makes him come here- least that's what he tells himself.
That's only partly true, of course. The Governor had sent him here, Robin's not here by his own accord. But he knows that even if the man hadn't sent him, his feet would find their own way to this little prison and right directly to her cell.
He's done this a thousand times but never has he left this much anxiety before- can feel it tightening around his chest with each step he makes. He's here to do a job, he tells himself over and over. That is all, she'll understand.
The cells aren't as full as they used to be. Years ago, each cell would hold up to about five prisoners; those to be questioned and those to be hanged. Each day All Hallow's alone would see two, three hangings and Robin would watch from the sidelines as his father cut the rope.
His mind often ran to thoughts of Regina. Was she safe? Still alive? Had she even managed to get out of Noctorum before being caught?
Seems he found out that answer today.
"So you're one of them now?"
He keeps his expression stony, ignoring everything he feels for this woman before him.
"One of what, milady?"
She moves from the corner of the cell. Robin finds himself taking a step back when her fingers curl around the bars.
"You know what," she says, her voice full of venom.
It hurts.
When he took on this position, he felt it a betrayal to her. As he knelt before the Governor, he shut his eyes and all he could see was her gazing back at him, anger and deception staring back.
Still, he stood up, accepting the position and hoping that if they were to ever meet again, she'd understand why he did it.
"I had to, otherwise they'd kill me."
She nods, but Robin can see the mockery in it.
"And now you kill us."
"I hunt-"
"It's the same thing."
Robin falls silent, his little attempt at an argument falling short. Even now, ten years later, she can still prove him wrong.
She pushes away from the bars, moving to sit down on the bench that makes up her bed. Robin watches, silent, knowing he should go now but not wanting to leave. He hasn't even started on the Governor's questions.
"How long am I in here for?"
Robin shrugs, it varies upon prisoner. Sometimes months, even years, then there are those that stay for a day.
"Until your trial."
"When will that be?"
"I don't know."
He watches as she nods, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the metal bench.
She doesn't need to be here, Robin thinks not for the first time. She's not dangerous, she can help people and probably has knowing her. This is the last place she needs to be.
But it's where she's ended up and Robin has a job to do even if he doesn't want to do it right now.
He kneels down outside the cell, pulling out some parchment and quill.
"Regina, do you mind if I ask you some questions?"
"I confess."
I takes him aback and at first he's unsure if he heard right.
"What?" he asks.
She looks towards him then and for the first time Robin sees a resolve and finality that's never been there before.
"I confess to being a witch."