Sorry guys, this chapter has been sitting on AO3 for a while and I didn't realise I hadn't posted it here. So it's not new, but if you exclusively read on ffnet, then WOO NEW CHAPTER!
Robin watched from the doorway, arms folded over his chest as he rested his shoulder against the wooden frame. The sight before him drew a warmth to his heart that he had been lacking for so long, it felt more like an ache, than the pleasure he knew it was supposed to be.
Regina, clad in small shorts and his oversized hoodie - her hair a bunch of curls in disarray on the top of her head, was standing behind his son at the kitchen counter. Roland was perched on tip-toes, on a milk-crate and a carefully leveled step-stool for his head to reach just below Regina's chin, and they were making cookies.
Traditionally, one might think an adult would be teaching the child to mix in the chocolate chips, after the other ingredients are mixed together, or showing his tiny boy how to knead the dough until it was flat and ready to cut. But Regina looked both a mixture of enthralled and entirely lost, following his tiny son's instructions as she stood with an arm on either side of him to keep him steady on his perch.
They each had a dusting of flour across their cheeks, and Regina had an additional dusting across her brow, mixed a little with loose curls that had likely gotten in her way.
The setting sun through the kitchen windows was warm and orange, filling the room with light and setting the happy pair aglow as they giggled and whispered together, completely wrapped up in their task. Robin hadn't thought twice about leaving his son with Regina that morning, or the three before it, even though she'd grabbed his arm with a shaking hand as he'd headed for the door - he had to work, his students needed him too - and worried her lip as he soothed her worries. He trusted her and his son adored her. Four days together in his house and apparently, she'd overcome those fears.
He didn't make his presence known, content to watch them as they laughed and stole chocolate chips from the bowl when each thought the other wasn't looking. It brought a smile to his face, the ache soothing with every moment that passed without Regina's expression contorted in pain.
He jumped, startled, as they both suddenly looked up at him as he accidently knocked his briefcase over at his feet. He'd meant to rest it down quietly, but in his rapture, he'd forgotten it was there and knocked it with his foot.
"Daddy!" His son exclaimed, squirming in Regina's arms to be let free of his perch. Carefully, and with a delicate laugh, she lifted him under his arms and set him on the ground, his bare feet slapping on the tiles as he ran for his father.
"Hello there, my boy!" Robin responded with equal fervor, lifting Roland into his arms and nuzzling their noses together before kissing his cheek, as he walked further into the kitchen. "Have you had a good day with Regina?"
"The best!" The boy exclaimed and Robin lifted an amused eyebrow in Regina's direction. She only smiled mildly, a soft pink colouring her cheeks. He had realised he loved her like this, all soft and delicate, bare faced and free of the leather and the buckles and the thick, dark makeup. She looked younger, gentler, like the world hadn't chewed her up and spat her out again.
"Daddy," Roland's voice as he continued on, pulled Robin's attention from Regina's soft, round eyes. "I don't need day care anymore, I want to spend every day with Regina." He declared and Robin chuckled.
"Oh, Roland," He laughed, but a part of him was already hurting at the answer that was about to leave his lips. "Regina will have to go home eventually, and you will have to let her." Robin turned to her, meeting her eyes to ensure she could see the sincerity in his expression, as well as his words. "When she's ready though, no rush."
A small, silent gust of breath left her and Robin too, felt relieved. She wasn't ready to go, he could see it in her eyes and he hadn't stopped telling her since that morning in the bathroom, that she was welcome to stay as long as she needed. But it had been nearly a week and she hadn't left the house, he was right to worry.
"How was work?" Regina asked, eyes turned away for a moment, as she tugged on her sleeve.
Robin looked her in the eye as he shifted Roland to his hip and moved closer to her. He realised she too, was barefoot and reached no higher than his chin, she had to crane her neck to look up at him the closer he moved, but he could feel her warmth through the fabric of her hoodie as he rested his hand on her hip.
"Not nearly as good as coming home," He spoke gently, pressing a kiss to her brow and he smiled as he pulled away, marvelling at the quiet peace on her face. Eyes pressed closed and expression serene - he felt a surge of joy that one gesture from him, could put that look on her face. Her eyes fluttered back open as he leant away just a little, but not enough to relinquish her hip and she smiled up at him.
"We've made you cookies," She spoke quietly, her voice a little thick and Robin grinned. "We had hoped to have them done when you got home, but sadly, the first batch met an unfortunate end."
"Burned?" He questioned.
"Salt, instead of sugar." Regina smirked and Robin let out a belly laugh, which had Roland laughing too.
"Maybe we should get this batch in the oven, I can't wait to try them." Robin moved behind Regina to rest Roland back on his perch and take Regina's place with his arms on either side of his son. "Can you show us how to cut them, Regina."
"Actually," She smirked. "Roland was showing me."
"Is that true, my boy?" He ruffled Roland's hair as the boy twisted around to look up at him.
"Regina's never baked cookies before! Did you know that, Daddy?"
"I didn't," He shared a smirk with Regina. "But I'm sure she's a master now, with you as her teacher."
"Oh yeah." Roland responded decisively and both adults chuckled as they watched him press the dinosaur shaped cookie cutter into the spread out dough.
Their blissful little moment was broken by the doorbell and Robin groaned, dropping his chin to the top of Roland's head.
"I'll get it." Regina spoke hesitantly but Robin smiled, tugging on her hand to pull her back to her place protecting Roland from a fall.
"No," He kissed her temple, never getting sick of being able to offer her the simplest gestures of comfort. "You continue your lesson."
The whole house was already starting to smell like cookies from their first batch, he realised, making his way through the living room where a whole bucket of Roland's lego was tipped out on the carpet, Finding Nemo was playing with the sound turned right down, on the tv and he nearly tripped on a Tonka Truck as he made his way to the door.
His house was full of light and sound and colour and Robin was loathe to encourage Regina to leave, to walk away from this and them and everything he could feel bubbling up inside him. He could come home every day to this sight, he realised. He loved walking into the living room covered in toys, cartoons on the tv and their laughter in the kitchen. As much as he wanted Regina to face her fears, to overcome what had been done to her, there was a larger part of him that wanted to keep her here, safe and happy and loved, where she never had to look into the darkness again.
Robin reached for the door handle, swinging it open with a grin, thinking it was likely Will. His smile faltered, however, when the breeze from the quickly swinging door, ruffled Emma's long blonde hair and she stood there, in a black peacoat with a brown leather overnight bag in her hands.
"Hi," She said quietly and Robin's smile returned, only a little hesitantly.
"Hey."
"She's here, right?" She questioned and he just nodded slowly, chewing absently on his bottom lip.
"She's making cookies with Roland."
"That's an image." The woman scoffed with a laugh, her mirth drifting away when she looked up into his eyes.
"It really is."
Emma swallowed, nervous, pulling her eyes from Robin's for a moment before she gestured into the house.
"Um, can I,"
"Oh yeah," Robin stepped aside. "Come in."
"I brought some things from Regina's," Emma held the bag up between them with a shaky smile. "I went by to see her a day or so after, you know," Robin nodded and Emma took a deep breath. "Well, when I realised she hadn't been back there I figured she might want some clean underwear and some clothes that didn't come from the menswear section of Old Navy."
"Hey!" Robin defended, only partly insulted by her mockery of his wardrobe. But to be fair, he wore a lot of flannel and soft-wash tees and his collection of green cargoes could do with an overhaul. Regina hadn't yet complained though.
Roland and Regina's laughter could be heard from the kitchen and Emma turned at the sound, her shoulders dipping as she listened before she turned back to meet Robin's eyes. Tentatively, he took the bag as she held it out to him again.
"How is she?"
"Every day is a step forward," He nodded, reaching over the back of the sofa to rest the bag down. "She's doing alright, all things considered. I've got her on a strict course of Roland Therapy, works wonders for the soul."
He could see a tear form in the corner of Emma's eye as she looked away before she tucked her hands in her pockets, taking in a big breath to soothe her nerves as she nodded. "That's good, that's great."
"How are things with you?" He questioned and Emma continued to nod, chewing on her lip nervously, flinching only a little when they heard the sound of a small crash and a muffled 'We're fine!' from the kitchen. Robin smirked.
"I left the Carlyle."
"Wow."
"Yeah," She rocked on the balls of her feet. "Wasn't working out, you know."
"Sure."
"I'm really glad she's found you," Emma looked up at him again. "Really glad."
"Do you want to see her?"
"Oh, no, I," Robin moved past her, squeezing her arm gently as he stepped between her and the sofa, headed for the kitchen. "I should really go."
"No, Emma, she'll want to see you."
"I really don't feel it's right, I just," She tried to make her way back to the door. "I just feel really bad about what happened and I don't think I can,"
Robin's hand around her elbow stopped her, pulling her back around to face him. "You didn't do it, Emma." He spoke gently, his grip on her arm, firm but kind. "It's not your fault, she doesn't blame you."
"I didn't see what they were doing." Tears formed in her eyes again.
"None of us did."
"Yeah, but I should have, it was my job. And he," Her breath hitched as a tear trickled down her cheek. "I was supposed to be there to look out for her and I failed."
"Just talk to her." He spoke softly and Emma hesitated, her eyes drifting to the golden light streaming through from the kitchen. Night had come while they'd talked and the living room was drenched in near darkness, but for the colours dancing across the tv and the kitchen light shining through the door. "Please?"
Slowly, Emma nodded and Robin squeezed her arm reassuringly before letting her go and guiding her toward the kitchen with a hand at the small of her back.
"Roland," He called ahead of them. "It's time to wash up for dinner, come on my boy." They heard the sound of little feet hit the ground running and Emma nearly stumbled over the small boy that took a sharp corner out of the kitchen.
"Daddy, Regina said I can have two cookies for dessert, TWO!"
"Not if you don't wash your hands you can't," Robin ruffled the curls on the top of his head. "Now get in that bathroom and wait for me, I'll be there in a minute."
The little boy scampered up the hall and Emma laughed, watching him go.
"Regina," Robin spoke gently as he made his way back into the kitchen. "You've got a visitor."
Emma followed him through the door and the sight that greeted her nearly dropped her jaw to the ground. She barely recognised the woman that stood before them, dusted with flour and a smudge of chocolate on her chin, brown curls in disarray and a hoodie so large three Reginas could fit in it.
"Hey," Emma waved sheepishly and to her surprise, Regina greeted her with a small smile.
"Hi."
"Robin says you're doing well."
"He and Roland are a good distraction." She smiled in Robin's direction and Emma didn't miss the soft, besotted look he offered in return.
"I'm going to go make sure the gremlin has washed both the backs and fronts of his hands, you ladies have a chat."
"The lasagne is almost done." Regina called after him and Robin nodded, licking his lips. "And I read all the instructions this time, made sure I got the measurements right."
"Sounds brilliant." He grinned, before disappearing out into the hall.
Both women were silent for a time, each looking at the other, before looking away. Emma couldn't help but take in Regina's appearance. Not only her makeup free face and natural hair, but the general softness about her - she couldn't help but imagine that this is what Regina was like, back before the failed marriages and the drugs and the booze. She looked so young and small, but so much lighter, like her burden had been lifted somewhat.
"You look good." Emma finally spoke, voice thick.
Regina seemed to notice her appearance all of a sudden, self-conscious of her hair and the flour on her face, tugging at the hem of Robin's hoodie with nervous hands.
"The outfit is a bit of a makeshift thing."
"Oxford, huh?" Emma smirked and Regina grinned, her fingers running along the edge of the university logo as she looked down at it.
"Yeah, it's Robin's."
"I figured."
"I like it here." Regina's voice was small and Emma smiled.
"I'm glad." She nodded, watching Regina worry her lip before she took a deep breath and spoke again, wanting to get out what she'd wanted to say to her, before the woman said anything more. "Look, Regina, I'm really sorry for,"
Regina cut her off. "It's not your fault, Emma."
"I didn't see what they were doing, I should have."
"So should I, so should David, and Killian and," She took a deep breath, her shoulders lifting before they fell again. "It's no one's fault. And you called Robin, I am grateful for that."
"I didn't mean to embarrass you."
Regina snorted a small laugh."I think I'm beyond the point of being embarrassed to ask for help, or to need it."
Emma just nodded. "I already told Robin," She blinked. "I left the Carlyle and I left Neal."
"Oh, Emma," Regina rounded the counter, reaching out for the woman who had slowly, and with great difficulty, become some semblance of a friend - but she stopped short when Emma's hand came up to stop her. "Now I'm sorry."
"Don't be," She shook her head, steadfastly ignoring the tears that threatened to fall. "I couldn't be near them, Neal or Gold, not after what they did."
"So it was Neal, then." Regina's voice was quiet, but knowing.
Emma just nodded. "Gold asked him to, said it was a choice, you or me."
"I'm sorry my stupid problems have done this to you."
Emma shrugged one shoulder, her hands still tucked in her pockets. "It's for the best." She took a shuddering breath. "If he can choose to hurt you, instead of talking to me, what kind of relationship did we really have?"
"Still,"
"It's alright, Regina," Emma smiled up at her, genuinely now, if a little watery. "I'm just really glad to see you're doing well."
"I am, but I still have to face it eventually."
"When you're ready."
"I think," Regina hesitated, twisting her fingers in the sleeve of her hoodie as she thought over an idea. "I think I need to face it, talk it out, with everyone."
"You're going to go back?"
Regina seemed to ponder the idea for a long moment, her eyes drifting away in thought before she looked back up into Emma's eyes. "I think I have to, even if it's just to say goodbye."
"Is that one of those steps Robin goes on about, acceptance, is it?"
Regina laughed gently. "Something like that," Her voice softened, as did her eyes as she asked. "Will you come with me?"
Emma's smile turned wistful and gentle, realising that just a few years ago, she'd never expected to stand across from Regina and see her as a friend.
"Yeah, sure." She smirked. "Maybe it'll be therapeutic for both of us."
Regina stood just outside the heavy, black door. All she had from the bag Emma had brought her was a clean pair of blue jeans and a white cotton shirt so she'd thrown on her leather jacket and her studded stiletto boots and tried to look as composed as she could.
She could hear Emma breathing just over her shoulder and knew, the return to the Carlyle was just as daunting to her so she reached out, and against what Emma knew of her whole character, reached for her hand.
"Ready?" She asked and Emma blinked at her, surprised.
"Isn't that my line?" The blonde smirked and Regina shrugged.
"I think we're in this one together." She smiled, squeezing the other woman's hand before she turned back to the door, covered in thick, black, chipped paint before pressing on it with her palm and stepping into the darkened hall.
They made their way through, with Regina ignoring the turn to her old dressing room, though Emma noticed how her shoulders twitched when they passed the door. They could hear the sound of a guitar tuning through the thick drapes that closed the backstage area off from the rest of the club, and each with a deep breath, they stepped through.
Silence descended as they made their way out into the light. Mary-Margaret had been lounging on one of the tattered sofas, a pile of homework in her lap that she'd been grading. When she saw them, she sat forward and rested the papers on the small table.
David dropped his guitar to it's stand and Killian froze, meeting Regina's eye with a look of surprise, and worry.
"Hi." Regina addressed the room, moving closer to the stage, between the ramshackle tables. Emma had scanned the room as well; the bar was unmanned, to her relief, but her heart started pounding in her chest when she noticed Neal and his father, step out from Gold's office at the top of the stairs.
She nudged Regina's side and gestured up the stairs and noted how Regina's eyes narrowed and her spine straightened, but she didn't address father and son who, surprisingly, looked on in silence.
"I just wanted to come and tell you all in person, I felt you deserved that." Regina twisted her fingers in front of her, anxiety growing in her belly with each word that left her lips. "But I won't be coming back to the Carlyle, and I won't be coming back to the band."
"Regina," Killian's voice broke as he stepped forward and she looked up at him with such a pained smile, with tears in the corners of her eyes, that he froze and didn't complete his thought.
"Being here is killing me." Her eyes drifted from Killian to David, and he could see in them, that she was pleading for them to let her go. "You know that."
"What will you do?" David questioned.
She looked over her shoulder at Emma and wiped a tear from her cheek. "I don't really know." She turned back to David. "But I'm getting closer to being able to work that out. But I can't do it here."
She stepped closer as David and Killian both hopped down from the stage and Mary-Margaret stood, but made no move to come closer.
"I wanted you both to know, that I'm doing better, I'm feeling good." They were silent for a time, just staring at her, before Killian launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her tightly and burrowing his face in her neck.
"I love you, Regina." He whispered, just for her and she felt a part of her heart break off and shatter.
"I know," She whispered back, hiding her face in his neck as she hugged him back.
"I hope you understand what you're doing to this club, Regina." Gold's voice echoed through the room and Regina froze in Killian's embrace, stiffening before pulling back and looking up at him over her shoulder. His hands gripped the railing, his gold rings glistening in the harsh club spotlights and his scowl piercing and unrelenting.
Regina's whole body was rigid as she stepped away from Killian and turned to face him.
It had taken her a long time to realise the power she had, but she would be damned if she wasn't going to use it now. "If your club is so delicate it rests on my shoulders, Gold, I hope it goes down the toilet the minute I walk out that door."
"You'll regret this."
She smirked, realising, finally, that she could make a choice to save herself. "No I won't."
"Go." David's voice caught her by surprise and she turned back to him, tears still waiting at the corners of her eyes, to be shed, though they hadn't yet.
"What?"
"Go, Regina," He smiled, that deep-rooted tenderness comforting her as it always had. "Leave and never come back. I want that for you." He reached out for her hand, brushing his thumb over her fingers. "Don't cling to the past anymore. Turn around and don't look back."
"What about you?" She whispered, the tears starting to trickle down her cheek.
"I'll be okay. But being here, seeing me, clinging to this like it could help you has never been what you needed."
She hiccuped a little, as the tears flowed heavier. She'd never thought that walking away from this life, meant walking away from David. She hadn't known until that moment, that she needed to walk away from him as much as she needed to walk away from that life.
"What will I do without you?" She couldn't remember a time in her life where she didn't have him there to pick her up.
"You'll stop seeing his face when you look at me," He spoke gently, reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheek. "And you'll heal."
"I'm going to miss you."
David let out a long breath on a smile, reaching out to wrap her in his arms. For the last time, she pressed her cheek to his chest and listened, with eyes pressed closed, to the sound of his heart.
"I'll always love you, Regina." He kissed the top of her head and with hands on her shoulders, stepped back away from her. "But you have to go."
She turned quietly, meeting Mary-Margaret's eye as she stepped into David's side, then looked to Killian with a small smile before she turned around to the door. Emma was still behind her, looking up at Neal on the landing.
"Did you want to," Regina began, but Emma shook her head.
"I thought I needed closure," The blonde smirked, turning her eyes away from Neal's tortured expression to look Regina in the eye. "But I didn't realise I already had it. I'm good to go."
Emma didn't look back up at Neal, she didn't see the tears in his eyes as she followed Regina out the door. She thought she'd needed to face what had happened, to see Neal again and maybe see if there was anything else there that she needed to feel. But she'd felt all she could, she'd heard all she needed and she knew, now, that it was over.
She followed Regina out the door to the street and neither of them look back over their shoulder at the flickering letters in the sign for the Carlyle or the weathered old brick with peeling paint.