It could be a nice life, here. The town resets itself, and it may be an undying loop in the outside world, but they have one another. They can make each day new and exciting with one another. They could build a life with one another.

She loves it, if she's being honest. She loves waking up

But every five days, Roland's memory resets, and the pain in Robin's eyes when he realizes he forgot something is unlike anything she's ever seen.

"You have to leave," she says simply, after Roland yet again runs down for breakfast and tells his father the exact same story about the exact same odd dream he's had every five days for the last year. It's when Roland asks if his father can teach him to ride a bike that Robin's face really falls. He's taught Roland to bike ride so many times, each time a wonderful memory completely lost to him.

"Don't give up," Robin urges, "please."

"You don't understand. It takes magic to break this curse. And I have tried everything I can, but magic simply doesn't exist in this world. At least… not magic great enough to break the curse."

"So you try something else, like maybe a way for Roland to age, so—"

"We've talked about that. What hellish trauma would it cause Roland to see he is the only one who ages? I need a full curse break, Robin. And I don't have it. I don't have the power to do it."

They talk in circles all night, but in the end, he agrees with her.

"I don't want to go somewhere that's not with you," he says simply.

"I know. But Roland deserves to age and grow," she points out. "Immediately. We can't keep waiting for a miracle. It's too painful to you and unfair to him."

"Do we even know that it's safe for him to cross the town line?" Robin asks. "You don't even know if we can communicate — it could be dangerous for us, it could—"

She knows it's an excuse. He doesn't want to leave her. He wants more time with her, he has undying faith in their ability to get through this. But… that doesn't mean he also doesn't have a point.

"You're right."

.::.

Tonight, Roland remembers Regina. She's been around in the last five days, enough to where he remembers things about her, like her name. He doesn't remember how they first met, or that first time she took him to Granny's, and that's a shame. But children are fickle and who knows if he would remember that anyway.

That's positive, at least. There are aspects he doesn't remember — like what her lasagna tastes like, or what her office looks like, but it's not as miserable as the reset where he forgot her entirely.

It's almost torture, though, because he's so loving to her, so absolutely enamored with her, even in the middle of a board game, and that it makes her never want to give him up.

She's had to say goodbye to love before, but she's never had to say goodbye to the love of a child.

And that, it turns out, is a special, deep cut, that hurts down to her bone with a cold chill she knows she won't easily escape.

Robin presses a kiss into her brow and hands her the dice. Her turn to play.

She doesn't expect any good fortune to come when she rolls the dice.

Good luck and Regina have never got along.

But it's a great roll, anyway. Robin congratulates her, as she counts the places with her pawn until it reaches the home spot.

If only life were so easy.

She shouldn't be doing this. This domestic routine they've settled into. It may look like a boring, ordinary life on the outside, but to her it's precious, and perfect, all her dreams come true.

Her happily ever after.

It's going to be ripped away from her again and she doesn't know if she can recover.

"Alright, I am afraid it's bedtime, my boy," Robin says with a pointed look at his son.

"Can Regina read me a story?" he asks, those puppy dog eyes looking up at her, and shit, she's really fallen for both of them.

She needs to take a step back.

"Of course, sweetie. What would you like to read?"

Later. Later she will will try to untangle from this life she has already become immersed in.

Right now she enjoys the way Roland clings to her as they walk up the stairs to his bed. The way he hangs on every word while she reads him There's A Wocket In My Pocket, the way his eyelashes flutter as he grows sleepy, the way he cuddles against her hip as she whispers the last lines of the book, his heavy breathing when he's moments from sleep…

She closes the book and shuts off the light, unable to resist dropping a kiss to his forehead.

"G'night Regina," he whispers.

"Goodnight baby," she responds, so naturally, so easily. As if he were her own.

Robin it sitting on the old rocking chair, the one his memories tell him belonged to Marian (they are lies, Marian never bought such a chair). He has just been watching them together, it seems, and from the look on his face, he seems quite touched.

The second they close the door to Roland's bedroom he springs it on her.

"I don't think we should leave unless we have a plan. I know what I'm doing here. I have a job I like, a nice house, Roland's five day memory isn't much different than a child his age. I have no idea what to expect outside of Storybrooke, and what if I can't come back?"

"I agree," Regina says, "I need to make sure it's safe. But Roland deserves to age and you deserve to eventually not be burdened as a single parent to a five year old. He should grow, Robin."

"I know," Robin scowls. "But he's at a good age. I wouldn't mind another twenty or so years…"

"No," Regina says softly, "you and I both know that's not right." She sighs, leans back on the couch, and admits, "As nice as that sounds... if we spend decades getting comfortable we will never have the strength to make the right decision. We have to do it now."

He looks absolutely miserable as he gives a little nod. "Okay, then, what do we do?"

She takes a deep breath, and slowly tells him her plan.

As most things do, it starts with Gold.

.::.

She's always nervous to call Rumplestiltskin. He's asleep, but the man still has that… power over her she just can't shake. He scares her, if she's being quite honest with herself, and it enrages her that even in this realm she still has to feel this discomfort.

She shakes it off, reminds herself that she has all the power in this realm, doesn't she?

Still her breath hitches as she dials his number.

"Ms. Mills, what do I owe the pleasure?" Gold sounds so… suspicious of her, somehow right away. But he can't be, can he? It's all in her head.

She pushes on, ever so confident. "Mr Gold, do you remember telling me that you wanted to be notified if any city property became available for purchase?"

She waits, hears his hesitation. He's told her that before, several times, but not recently enough to remember.

"I… yes, of course," he says, sounding incredibly confused, which brings a smile to her face.

"There's property on the edge of town I've no use for anymore.. A storm did cause some damage to a few of the trees on the property and if you purchase the property you will be required to clear the diseased trees."

"Well, I won't be purchasing a pile of land that will cost me more to maintain than its worth," he draws. "But the wooded area on the edge of town? I do… have an interest in that land."

Well that's a fortunate coincidence.

"Yes, um, oddly a surveyor has already blocked off the land…"

"Yes, I'm aware."

Odd, the land had always been marked off, she assumed to tell her where the boundaries are. But it's odd for him to be aware of it too, isn't it?

"I… happened to be looking at the property a few days ago," he says by way of explanation. "before the storm. But I'd like to see this damage you speak of… if I could."

"Excellent," Regina says, "I'll meet you out with Mr. Petrov?"

Gold agrees.

.::.

She had spendt all night shifting the orange tape sectioning off the boundary lines. Just a few feet, nothing noticeable. Just a bit over so Gold will be technically over the town line when he walks around the edge of it.

And then, well, then she'll know if it's safe.

"You see, this tree here," Ivan Petrov says, pointing towards a tree on the town line. "Like I said to Ms Mills, it's threatening to fall on those power lines. We have to chop it down."

"Indeed," Rumple agrees.

"And there's this over here…" Ivan says, pointing to another tree.

Regina's blood runs cold as Petrov gets dangerously close to the actual town line… he's not supposed to be able to want to cross, but what if she screwed up too many things by us no magic on Robin, what if he crosses and dies because of her?

She never much cared for him, but she does like his little son, little Fievel. Or Pasha, as he's known here. She would not like to cost a son his father.

Luckily for her, Ivan does not cross.

Rumple, though, is another story. He walks right to the edge of the orange border, to look at the tree Ivan is pointing to.

She sees it, a flicker of confusion when he steps across the town line.

She hold her breath, but nothing happens.

And then he walks back, like it is nothing, and continues to survey the land.

She doesn't pay attention to the rest of the property discussion.

Nothing matters. Gold walked across the town line, and he didn't die.

That means Robin can leave. Robin can leave her and start a new life where his son will age.

Robin can leave and find a beautiful new life away from this nightmare.

And she'll be alone again, trapped in her own prison.

Ivan shows Rumple the rest of the land, and it's torture, pretending that nothing is wrong, pretending her world isn't standing on its head.

She makes it, though, like she always does. Gold stares at her with that hint of suspicion, but he says nothing. Does not even ask her if something is wrong in that demeaning way he has in the past.

They say their goodbyes, and he mentions something of acquiring the land, of making an offer, and she nods, tells him to call her office.

And then she trudges back to her office in slow motion dialing each digit slow and determined.

"It worked," Regina breathes into the phone. "Gold crosses the town line with no ill effects. It worked, Robin, you can…"

She can't finish that sentence, not right now, because she has to keep her voice even. She can't risk letting one of those choked sobs sneak out. Tears are streaming down her face, but he can't see that, and he doesn't need to know how hurt and broken she is right now. They should be celebrating, after all. This is for the best. And if Gold has suffered some horrible fate?

Well, she would have been a sobbing mess, too. Because it would be her fault that Robin and Roland were trapped in this prison. That Roland would be a child forever, never able to grow, or age.

She sucks a breath in, a desperate attempt to calm herself down and finish this conversation as if everything were normal.

"Let me see you," he begs, "I don't want to have this conversation over the phone, I need to—"

"I'll make plans for you and contact you when things are ready for your departure—"

" Contact me? Regina what does that mean? Are you not going to let us see you anymore? You can't do that, you can't just—"

It's easier this way," she promises, "for the both of you."

When she ends the call, she feels empty and cold.

It hurts, it feels wrong and unnatural, but this is for the best. Distance.

.::.

Robin lets her have a night. A night and most of the next day, before he calls again.

She tries to be polite and distant as she begs him off, saying she's busy and will contact him when she has found him a place to stay, necessary paperwork, and at least a good solid lead on jobs outside the town.

He huffs into the phone and tells her he wants to talk in person, but she refuses. He puts up an argument but eventually relents, and lets her end the conversation without argument.

She thinks that will be the end of it and absolutely refuses to lament how easily he gave up.

But the next evening, he and his son are on her porch (a nice touch, that, bringing Roland, so she can't possibly scream and send him away). And perhaps she yet again misjudged him. He doesn't give up so easily after all.

"Regina!" Roland giggles, "I painted you a tree!" He is holding a piece of paper, still damp from an abundance of watercolor. It is mostly green, but there are splotches of blue and yellow, even a bit of brown.

Upon closer inspection it does appear to have been a rather nice tree, with a sun and sky behind it. Would have been a very ordinary painting for a child his age, had the paint been allowed to dry. But the colors have all run together, creating an abstract look she finds rather charming.

Not surprising, of course. Everything about this family charms her, doesn't it?

"Beautiful, Roland," she praises, "I'm going to frame this, once the paper has a bit of time to dry."

His eyes go wide. "Frame it? LIke a real picture?"

"It is a real picture," she tells him, pressing her index finger to his nose. "A beautiful one, at that. One of my favorites."

She still hasn't let them in. She's hovering over the doorway, focused on Roland and entirely ignoring Robin. She should just tell them she's busy and have them go on their way right?

But Roland is shifting back and forth on his feet, itching to get inside. And when he asks, "Can I help you find out where to hang my picture?" she finds she can't turn him away.

She's weak, so weak for children. This one in particular. She should not be doing this. Roland needs to forget about her.

"I think it should be here," Roland says, pointing to a patch of wall right by the sink. It's a terrible place for a picture, the light fixture would be hovering right over it, as well, but she can't help but smile at his reasoning. "'Cause you are always in the kitchen and this way you can see it all the time and think of me."

Sure, it's a sharp stab in the heart, but it also makes her go warm and soft inside. She tries to look at this positively; children once feared her, loathes her, hated her.

She had thought it was because her heart had darkened, that she could no longer draw the affection of children like she did before she trained under Rumple and chose revenge.

It first started before she had ever hurt anyone. A King and Queen from a neighboring village had brought their newborn daughter to visit Leopold.

The child had shrieked inconsolably in her arms, the mother muttering apologies as she lifted her back out of Regina's arms. And oh, it hurt. Regina craved affection from anyone during those days, and the child had not offered any. Still, she would not have thought much of it, had Rumple not said what he did the next time he saw her.

Children are clever creatures. Rather intuitive. They see the evil adults cannot

Roland is clever. Roland sees things others cannot. But Roland likes her, despite knowing nothing about her under the curse.

He didn't like her because she planted false memories. He likes her because of the real ones that they sewed together.

And it's awful, because Roland will be lost to her forever. But there's hope. Hope that maybe children won't always see her as an evil witch forever.

"Regina, love?" Robin asks, looping an arm around her wrist gently. "You okay?"

She turns to find both Locksley's looking at her with curiosity. She wonders how long she's been lost in thought.

"Yes," she clears her throat and forces a fake smile, "just wasn't expecting company today."

She gives a pointed look in Robin's direction.

He shrugs sheepishly and just says a simple "I missed you."

It breaks her heart.

"I missed you too , Regina!" Roland pipes up.

And no, she was wrong, her heart was never broken until the exact moment the pint sized Locksley spread his dimples and reminded her that he cares about her.

She's never going to get over them.

But she really needs to talk to Robin alone. Immediately.

"Roland, I would say this masterpiece has earned you. bit if television," Regina says, holding his picture as if it were precious treasure. "Go see what's on."

He does as she says, scampers off, and then she sees Robin looking at her with a sweetness that throws her.

"I love seeing you parent him."

Her cheeks flush.

Right. She shouldn't be the one who gets to dictate television time, should she? She never should have, but certainly not now, when she's supposed to be keeping her distance.

"Sorry, that wasn't my place," she says, waving a hand at his protesting no, I like you taking care of him, "I just needed to talk to you without him hearing. Because you can't do that. And you can't use your son to get to me when I won't take your calls."

"I know," Robin says, sighing. He leans against the kitchen cabinets, his arms crossed. "You want me to pretend I don't feel things for you. You want me to let my son forget about you. You want me to leave before I ever cross that town line. And it's not going to happen."

He's not too forceful with that statement, and despite his words, it doesn't sound like he's ready for a fight. He seems more… resigned.

"Robin, we shouldn't make this harder—"

But he's prepared for that argument, it seems, since he's already shaking his head, weaving fingers through hers, pulling their now-joined hands towards his body. She wants to let him pull her right against his body, to just lay her head into his shoulder, but she fights the instinct.

"You're right. We shouldn't make this harder. I don't want to waste a minute of time with you, while I've got you. It's not possible for this to hurt any more. It'll take a few days to get everything sorted for our departure, yeah? I want to spend those days soaking up every ounce of you I can."

"You could forget all about me the second you cross that line," Regina reminds, "but I will remember, and that would be torture for me. Torture I would have to suffer all alone ."

He looks confused, as if he hadn't considered that. "But Gold, his memories—"

"Gold created the curse," she argues, "and he's not awake. Once you cross you could forget that I am the Evil Queen and that you are Robin Hood. And without that memory, what would you remember of me? It could be nothing. And then you'd be blissfully unaware of what we had, while I am stuck holding all the misery of what could have been."

It seems to dawn on him that she may be suffering on her on on this. He takes a step back, and nods.

"Then what do you want? Do you really want us to go away? Spend the last few moments we may have apart? I'll do it if it's what you want, love. I don't want to, but if you think it will help..."

"I… don't know what will help," she admits. That seems to be permission he needs to draw her into a huge. She accepts it, leans her head against his shoulder and breathe in. Fuck, this is hard.

"If the worse happens, and I disappear from your life, it will be like I am dead to you," Robin muses. "We've both suffered our loved ones dying before. I wouldn't trade a moment with Marian, I'd have spent every last second with her. And I feel the same way about you as I did with Marian. I would take the pain of missing you for years if it meant I got one more day with you, to kiss you and touch you and love you as I want."

And fuck, he makes a good point. Because if she had known Daniel would die, she would have only spent more time with him, not less.

She'd touch him as much as she could, kiss him as much as he'd let her, spend every minute of the day with him.

And there's no reason to pretend this is much different. She feels something deeply with Robin. Maybe deeper than she did with Daniel. A few days apart won't do anything to alleviate the pain of losing Robin. She's already in this too deep.

The silence has grown on long, and Robin hastily speaks again. "But I'm not pushing you into something that hurts you. You know how I feel about you, you know what I want. What do you want?"

She knows what she wants.

She tilts her head up and cups his chin, urging him to meet her lips. She catches his little smile a second before his mouth meets hers. That goofy, smug little smile she's come to love.

She kisses him with fire, with passion and need. But she doesn't crave sex nearly as much as the intimacy of being in his arms, and she doesn't want to leave it anytime soon.

And she certainly doesn't want to talk about his departure again, not right now.

So they keep kissing.

His hand has just found its way down, just started to cup at her ass when she hears Roland's high pitched Gross!

She jumps out of the kiss, mortified, but Robin is just looking like a kid in a candy shop. "Roland, you are a terrible wingman."

"What's a wingman, daddy?" Roland asks, head cocked and hands on his hips.

Robin just shakes his head and says, "You'll understand when you're ol—"

His voice fades, and Regina sighs. He will understand it when he's older. When he's away from her, and older.

When he is being a good wingman to his dad with a completely different woman.

Robin smiles at her sadly, presses a kiss to her forehead, and shakes the sudden bleak mood away.

"I'm ordering us a pizza."

.::.

Roland is sprawled out on the floor, sedated from too much pizza and too many disney movies. His little feet peek out from the blanket Regina had given him as the night grew late. He's so cute. It's overwhelming at times.

"How is it that we kept our names," Robin whispers to her. "In the curse, I mean." It's an odd question, comes out of nowhere and she's unprepared.

"I don't know," she says, "Most people did not, but some are the same. She breathes in deeply and notes, "My name is the same. Prince David's name is the same. Well, his first name, anyway."

"But our first and last names are the same."

"Yes. That reminds me, when you go out into the world you are going to get a lot of Robin Hood jokes. And once you mention your wife's name was Marian….well..."

"If you're drawing up legal documents and have the ability, feel free to give me a new last name," he says flippantly "I'll go by Robert, no one will think anything of it." And then he presses on. "Anyway. I was asking about our names because it seems odd the both of us would be kept exactly the same. And I was thinking that it's possible that the curse didn't fully take us the way it took others. Maybe because we're a part of you."

She hates this about him, hates how he sews these little ideas into her head, just under the surface, lets them fester and blister into a big giant, hurtful lesion of hope.

She sighs, and looks at him. She's angry at him now, because he keeps giving her ideas for things she can never have. "Our time is short, Robin. We have to accept that. You can deny it if you'd like of course, but you're only setting yourself up for disappointment."

He shrugs. "We're soulmates. I don't believe you can separate us so easily."

"You really don't want to be separated from me?"

His answer is immediate and effortless. He looks back at her so intently, and it feels so god damned honest when he tells her "No, I don't. Not one bit."

She laughs bitterly, then bites her lip and tries to compose herself. He doesn't want to be separated from her, as much as he knows about her. But he doesn't know everything, does he? He doesn't know that no one is safe with her - not even loved ones. So she reveals her biggest secret, the one she knows will have him running and never looking back.

"I killed my father, you know."

She looks him right in the eyes, and she waits to see the terror forming there, but there is none.

"I figured." He shrugs, as if it were nothing. As if she just confessed to burning dinner. "The way you acted when I asked… I knew you had to have killed him."

"He loved me. He didn't hurt me, and I killed him all the same. To enact this curse. I needed the heart of the thing I loved most. So I killed a wonderful, loving, innocent man who only wanted the best for me. What sort of person—"

"He didn't protect you from your mother. He didn't even try to get you to out of a marriage you didn't want, did he? He didn't deserve to die, but let's not make the man into a saint." He sighs and rubs at his thighs, purses his lips and glances back at her with some… affection. "I've had a lot of time to think about this, love. You get to feel guilty. I cannot imagine how it feels to have that weighing on your conscience. I know it does, just by how you told me just now. And that means you regret it. If you thought this was going to be the thing to push me away, you're wrong."

She's too bewildered to even understand. "You still… you still want to be around me, still want me, knowing what I did to someone who was nothing but— to someone who cared for me?"

He wraps an arm around her and pulls her close to him. "Regina, when are you going to realize that I don't care about what you did in the past? Haven't I made it clear that I know you are not that person anymore?" His voice is light, sweet, almost playful. Such a stark contrast from the somber mood.

She can't quite process what it means to have a person know all her secrets, all her faults and failings, every last evil bit, and still accept her. Still want her. For all these years she's been the only person to know how truly evil she was, and she can hardly stand to be inside her own skin.

And while they are being honest, while he's holding her heart in his hands, she might as well confess all her weaknesses too.

"I'm… scared." She admits. "I don't want to lose you. I'm going to miss you so much."

He presses a kiss to her brow and suedes her tight. "Darling, have faith. I don't believe this is how our story ends."

She has no such faith. But she wants to try. For him.

So she snuggles into him, shares a glass of whiskey with him, and watches late night television, and lets them trade tender kisses and innocent touches.

Robin carries Roland up to the spare bedroom when their television show ends (they weren't watching it anyway). The room is quickly becoming his own, and Regina loves it that way. She's bought little things, superhero bed sheets, a colorful comforter a few knick knacks that make it more appealing to a child… it was too soon to do any of that for Roland, but she has always thought of it as a room for a child, after all.

"This has been a perfect evening," Robin says earnestly, after his son is tucked in. "A delicious meal, damn good whiskey, a beautiful, brave, woman, my son, who I love dearly… If it's all I had for the rest of my life, I would say I was living in paradise."

God, why does he have to make this so hard?

"Robin…" she warns.

"Please, Regina," Robin says with a sad little smile. "Let's not remind ourselves of what's to come. Can we just pretend this is our lives now, just for tonight?"

She's already agreed to do that, hasn't she?

So she nods and tries to put that voice to bed, the one that tells her to guard herself, the one that tells her she will soon be miserable and lonely.

"Good," Robin says, with a devilish smile, as he walks her away from the stairwell and towards her bedroom. "Because I snuck some champagne up to your room during a commercial break… and Imight have lit a few a few candles in effort to seduce you. "

Her lips hurt from trying to fight the impulse to smile. She reminds him, "you don't have to seduce me, I'm already yours."

The face he makes in response to that is worth everything.

She's never felt so… cared for. He puts a hand on her cheek, stroking it lovingly, the way he likes to, she's come to realize. And he likes playing with strands of her hair. It's shorter these days, and she's always liked that aspect of the curse. Long hair reminds her of her mother's strong and vindictive magic, tugging and pulling it from the roots when she misbehaved, or Leo's hands, tangling themselves in her tresses during their….sessions. She was glad to have a hairstyle that did not remind her of those times.

But now, knowing how Robin feels about her hair, it makes her wish it were just a tad longer, so he'd have more to touch, more to weave his fingers through while they kiss and touch.

His hands leave her hair as he leads her to the bedroom, strips off all her clothes (lets her strip him of his own) and then he lays her in the bed, and spreads her thighs.

"Wanted this all day," he whispers, "just you, just to be here with you."

He's so damn gentle with her, so romantic. He takes his time, working her up, kissing and sucking in those places he's learned she loves. It's all for her, this time, and she knows it.

He kisses up her left leg tenderly, slowly working himself to the apex of her thighs, hooking that leg behind his shoulders as he reaches where she needs him, and she moans at just the sight of him, before his tongue so much as touches her.

He smiles and looks up at her before his hand cup her bottom and he lowers himself to feast on her.

She wouldn't call him gentle. Reverent, maybe, deliberate and slow, but each touch is firm, and confident, and positively electrifying.

She comes on his tongue embarrassingly quick, already worked up and wanting for hours due to the sweet domesticity of the evening, the wine and his chaste kisses, such odd ingredients that mix into the perfect aphrodisiac.

But he doesn't tease her for how quickly she falls apart for him, only stays, touching and eating her, letting her thighs tremble and her belly spasm under his touch, until she reaches for his shoulders to pull him away from where she is too sensitive.

He crawls up her body and kisses her. Usually after he eats at her his kisses are a bit sloppy and desperate, but this time he's more passionate and measured, kissing her in a way that doesn't feel like it's a part of sex. It's something more intimate.

He lays next to her as they kiss, rubbing his fingertips over her body, tracing the curves to her body. Her skin turns to gooseflesh under his touch, a tingling prickle ignites her nerves and rushes to her head and makes her feel drunk and dizzy. She reaches for his erection, in attempt to get to the main event, but he grasps her wrists and guides it to his hips instead, urging her to hold him the same way he is holding her. It's nice to just...kiss. To just be close.

He pulls back from her after a bit, far enough to so she can look into his eyes without everything going blurry. He cups her cheek, strokes the apple with his thumb. "Regina…" he whispers, and something about how he says it nearly chokes her with an emotion she won't put a name to.

He swoops in, presses a kiss to her lips and draws back, and says in that low, smoky voice. "I love—"

Her eyebrows raise, because he knows, he knows he isn't supposed to say that. And that look shuts him up, has him stopping, grimacing and shaking his head.

"I love you like this," he finishes, and it's not quite what he wanted to say, but she'll take it. She'll live in denial.

"I love you like this, " she says, her hand gripping his ass tightly. "Fuck me."

"But I…." She looks at him and it's clear. He doesn't want to right now. But not for lack of wanting her (the evidence of that is hard against her hip, after all). For some other reason.

"I don't need it. I just need you close tonight," he explains, threading fingers through her hair. "I just want you in my arms."

They kiss and touch, until she's a completely mess, swollen and soaking between her thighs,until every bump against his middle has him groaning, and it's then that he lets her, when she begs, when she says she so needs his cock, when she has to come so hard it hurts . Then he lets her take him inside her, groaning at the contact of her, apologizing immediately because he's close, far too close. But so is she, she tells him, whispering in his ear, that she's about to come again, she's going to come so hard, she just needs to feel him.

He thrusts into her hard, and it's all slapping of skin and knocking of hips, his thumb rubbing desperately against her, at an absurdly fast and firm pace, trying desperately to catch up to where he already is.

He gets so close, he has those tell-tale grunts, those little movements, and his cock is rock hard inside her, nearly pulsing inside her, and it's a matter of seconds now, she knows—

"Stop!" she says, because she's too close to be satisfied without another orgasm, "don't come yet, I want— I need—"

He lets out this little whine, this little desperate thing that makes guilt bloom in her heart, but it's actually hot, he slips out of her, replaces his cock with fingers, and works her up that way, his fingers inside her, his other hand toying with her clit, until she's gasping and writhing under him, until she lets out a wanton "I'm cl- close! !" that has him drawing back his hands, sheathing himself inside her.

It's only a few thrusts before that warmth in her belly overflows, til a sharp thrust has her falling over that peak, and she screams into his mouth as he kisses her hard, as her body shakes and convulses under him.

He's a few beats behind her, coming as she's still clenching around him with a shout of her name.

He pulls out and wraps his arms around her, kissing her forehead and whispering that he cares for her, that she's everything to him, that he loves how she feels, how she looks, how she is with his son (he loves everything about her, it seems, and he lists them, and she knows it's a way to say those three words without actually saying them).

They've had sex, so many times, so many ways before. But this time is closer, more intimate than ever. It solidifies a connection, a feeling she doesn't like to speak of.

But deep down inside she knows. They are deeply, tragically, irrevocably connected. They are two halves that found each other, they've been fitted together, and finally feel whole.

Separating is going to feel awful, unnatural and empty.

.::.

It only takes two more weeks, and everything is in place.

Money has been transferred to bank accounts. The proper paperwork has been bestowed on both Robin and Roland - now, US citizens with birth certificates and social security numbers. No longer Locksleys, now Leonhardts.

"It's all here," she says, holding up a folder of his new life. She's been staying with them, lately. With Robin and Roland. They have a quaint home near the woods, and it's been so easy to abandon her old lonely house and just stay with them in comfort.

"Already?" Robin asks incredulously. "All of that, what you had written down we needed? I thought it would take months."

"Yes, well," Regina sighs. "Our town is… annoyingly efficient." She frowns a bit and adds, "I am very good at my job. Too good sometimes."

He laughs and shakes his head sadly. He takes her in his arms, one hand running through her hair. She loves being held like this — more than she cares to admit. "Why couldn't I have fallen for someone incompetent?" he teases.

She gives him a half hearted swat on the shoulder and sinks into him. "I just got a rental agreement for a beautiful house in Rockport, and the Parks committee is expecting to see you for a job interview next Friday…" She pauses, to give him a little sad smile, "a formality, frankly, giving the stunning review i've given you and impressive resume I've concocted for you. Roland is all set to enroll in school, and—"

Her voice hitches at that, as her mind wanders to him learning, and growing, for the first time in five years. And she's going to miss it.

"Shhh," Robin says, wrapping his arms around her. "It's going to be okay. You and I are going to figure a way to break this curse. I know we will. And until then, I'm going to make sure you get a key to this little house you're talking about. I think I would like you as a frequent visitor."

"Robin," she wants, moving back from his embrace long enough to look him in the eye. "We've discussed this."

"Yes, we have. And you know that I believe nothing will change when I cross that line. And until it does, I want you in my bed as often as you can."

"You don't understand. Even if you kept all your memories… crossing the line, going through magic, so many times? that's dangerous. Your body can go through a portal once every month or so, but I couldn't— not every day."

His face falls at that, just a bit, before he peeks up and says, "Once a month, then."

"Maybe," she gives, not wanting to argue.

.::.

It's a miserable day for travel.

The day is grey and cold, the wind is harsh and biting, but it's the mood of the day that really has her shivering as they make their way to the pond just by the town line.

Regina has decided they should walk across the town line, just in case anything serious happens, it's best to be on foot and not trapped in a metal box filled with fuel and fire.

So she drives Robin's packed car across the town line, while he drove her car to the duck pond right near the edge of town.

She walks there to meet them.

Roland looks skittish.

"Regina, I don't want to move," he says, his voice wavy and lost.

"I know baby, but I heard your new house is really pretty!" she tries, "and I think your school is really fun. It's is right near the woods, and there's a lake…"

"I will miss Anthony," he pouts. "And Willa is having a birthday party next week and now I can't go."

"You will make new friends," she soothes, but Roland says he doesn't want new friends, he likes the ones he has.

"Will you visit me?" He asks, her voice thick and wet.

It seems to be too much for Robin. He's not doing well, she realizes. His eyes are red rimmed and he looks pale. She hadn't noticed the circles under his eyes before, but they are there. They've spent every night in bed together for the last two weeks, but Regina realizes he must have been sleeping as little as she has.

"I'll give you two a minute. I'm just going to go on a short little walk to clear my head" Robin says quickly, before walking towards a nearby trail.

"Will you, Regina? Visit me?"

Well, it seems Robin has left her with the hard questions.

And what's the harm if he won't remember her when he crosses that line?

"Yes, sweetheart. I will visit you all the time." She lies.

Because even if they do remember, after a few months of barely seeing one another, Robin will move on and find a real relationship. Once a month visits is no way to live.

"Here," Regina says, holding a bag of oats to Roland, "I think I see some very hungry ducks over by the lake who would love you to feed them."

Roland frowns and kicks his feet in the dirt, but doesn't take the bag of oats out of her hand like he normally does..

"Roland, come on, you love feeding the ducks. You look forward to it every week."

He isn't looking at her, he's staring at the ducks, watching as they swim and play in the cold water. And finally he lets out a choked little sob and sniffle and asks, "Will you feed them for me, when I am gone?"

He's hurling himself into her arms before she can say a word, and she bends down to catch him, holding him tight against her..

A wave of self loathing washes over her, and it's misery. Roland's so god damned innocent, fragile and tenderhearted. And what a person she was, when she enacted this curse, caring nothing for the children like Roland caught in the midst.

"I'm so sorry, Roland. I promise this is for the best." she soothes.

"But I don't want to go!" he sobs into her shoulder. "Can't you tell Daddy that—"

"No sweetie, this is for the best. But I promise, I promise this is going to be good for you. Okay?"

She catches Robin walking back towards them, breathing a sigh of relief.

"What were you two chatting my about?" he says a little too cheerfully.

"I told Regin I didn't want to go. But she says it'll be fun ." Roland mutters.

"It will, my boy!" Robin responds, "And if we don't like it we can always go back, okay?"

Fire starts before her eyes as she glares at him.

She can't blame Robin. She's already lied once to Roland, but twice seems cruel.

But it cheers Roland up enough to get a smile out of him, to have him cheerfully feeding the ducks.

Robin sits next to on the bench and places an arm around her.

"I'm sorry. I can't watch him be miserable, if he's upset, I don't think I'll have the strength to leave." She shakes her head, chasing tears away. She doesn't speak, tries to compose herself, so her voice doesn't shake. She lets him continue. "I know, it's not exactly true to tell him that we can come back. I know there's a chance he won't remember," he whispers into her ear. "but if he does, milady, we are going to find our way back to you. I know it."

That's when a single tear falls free from her eyes and rolls down her cheek.

They won't, they can't.

But she doesn't have the strength to remind him. So she just grabs a handful of oats and joins Roland in feeding the ducks.

Robin follows.

.::.

After an hour of feeding ducks, Roland says he's hungry, and that is that. They will catch a meal at the diner Regina has mapped out, down the street.

Across the town line.

Without her, like every meal they will have from now on.

She doesn't want them to go, but they must.

"I will visit you," Robin promises as they walk to the town line, "And you will visit me. We will see each other once every two weeks. You won't be alone."

Oh, if only he were right. But she shakes her head.

"We've discussed this. It's uncertain that you will be able to ever return once you leave," she says bluntly, "Even if Gold ventured a few steps across and returned… you are awake and are going far further than a step across the line. And there is no telling what wandering over that line will do to your memories or Roland's memories. Magic is unpredictable. Let's not make such promises."

"I shouldn't leave you," his voice is shaking now. This still takes her by surprise. Carnal lust, the passion in their lovemaking — that is expected. She's beautiful, she knows that. But just as well as she knows that, she knows she's evil. And he does too. Yet he treats her… as if she's someone he's actually proud to love instead of forced to love.

Not that she has let him say those words yet.

"You have to leave," she says just over a whisper, "for Roland."

He doesn't argue, just takes her in his arms. He hugs tight, but she's holding him against her even tighter. She hears Roland, nearby, playing some sort of game with sticks, and bless him for being preoccupied because she really does need a moment.

Tears fall free. She doesn't even have the strength to chase them away.

"Alright, go on, both of you," she finally says, after she's sure she's hugged him for far too long, "hurry, you need to get settled before dinner. And it's… it's a rather long drive." Her voice cracks and wobbles as she thinks of how far they will be from her, shit, she hates that.

"Goodbye, Regina!" Roland says tearfully, hugging at her legs. She lifts him up, draws him into a tight hug.

"I love you, Roland." She says, god the words come so easily. She hasn't said them to many people, but to Roland they fall free as if it were nothing.

"I love you too," he says earnestly.

When she puts him down, Robin takes his hand, and they prepare to walk across the line… but he turns again, can't help it, takes her in another passionate embrace and kisses the life out of her. She returns it, eagerly.

"Regina…" he says as she breaks out of the kiss, "I…"

"I know." She assures. She does know what he's going to say, those three words that under different circumstances she would love to hear, but not now. It will only hurt more to hear them right before he's lost to her forever.

Robin nods, and takes Roland's hand.

And then they step forward.

And white light crashes everywhere.

Shit. shitshitshit. This didn't happen with Gold, what has she done, it…

When the flash of light disappears she sees Robin on the other side. Thank god he's in one piece.

"Regina? What happened?" He asks, and then he looks down to his hand that was holding Roland. "Where's— oh my god, where is—"

No. Not the baby, god not him, she won't live with herself if…

"Daddy? Daddy? Where did you go?" She spins around and there, several hundred yards behind her is Roland. He looks confused, but not particularly upset. "Where are you?"

"Roland!"

Oh god Roland can't cross the line, magic must have tossed him back… but Robin just crossed, has she just separated father and son for life?

Is there no worse damage she can inflict?

But she only has to punish herself for a split second before Robin crosses back across the line like it's nothing.

"Robin," she sobs, feeling useless and miserable. Roland can't age, she can't even help, for all the magic she learned, she doesn't know how to stop this. "Robin I am so, so sorry."

But Robin is grinning from ear to ear, shaking his head like he doesn't believe his good luck.

"Don't be," he says, cupping her cheek, "I am so glad I don't have to leave. I'm grateful for it. I love you."

There they are.

Those words they've been falling over themselves not to say.

And it's terrifying and surreal as she's smiling despite herself and finally voicing what she's felt for weeks. "I love you too."

His fingers scratch at her scalp, other arm anchored around her waist, and then he's tilting down to kiss her.

It feels so good, so free. It only lasts a second, there's Roland after all.

"It was a silly plan," he murmurs. "I'm never considering a plan that separates us ever again."

She smiles and shakes her head.

"Daddy! Come here, look what I found!" Roland is engaged in something by a fallen log, probably some sort of bug, or god knows what else little boys like.

Frankly she can't wait to see whatever gross thing he shows her.

And she's going to cherish every one of these moments for as long as she's allowed.

Robin smiles and then turns his attention to his son. "Coming, my boy!" He calls, sprinting towards him.

God, seeing them reunited and here, in town, is such a relief.

She runs with him, in time to see a frog that is delighting Roland.

"Isn't it cool?" Roland asks. And then, "What are we doing here? I forget."

Shit.

It seems the town line has disoriented him, completely erased the memories of their plans to leave out of town. And that's for the best, because they are staying. They have to, don't they?

"We just came to feed the ducks," Robin says, eyes full of tears. "We walked a bit too far. Let's go back and feed them, then. we will go to Granny's, alright?"

Roland runs ahead, eagerly, all thoughts of leaving town or moving completely out of his head.

"I don't know what happened," Regina says slowly, as Roland skips towards the pond. "I promise you, Gold went right through the townline and nothing happened—"

"And so did I," Robin reminds. "I felt nothing at all. But Roland… why did the magic prevent him from leaving?"

"That's what the spell was supposed to do," Regina gives, "as long as you were under the curse, no one could leave, but…" she pauses, chewing her lip, "Gold has no issues. The land surveyor never crossed the line, never came too terribly close… I can cross…"

Shit.

"Robin, it's because he's awake."

"What?"

"Gold, Gold could cross because he's awake. He has been pretending this whole time, but he is like us. It's the only explanation."

Robin seems to think that over before nodding. "So what does that mean then?" he asks, "What is our next step?"

"Gold doesn't want this curse broken yet. Otherwise he would have ended it himself. But I'm sure he knows something. Maybe… we have to keep an eye on him. I'm sure he knows how to break it and I'm sure he's brought some sort of magic over to this world with him."

Robin nods, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

"That sounds like a good plan, something we can do in a few days. But for now, I almost lost you… and I'd like very much to spend all day and all night with you, just drinking you in. Only happy thoughts for now, okay? The thought of leaving you has been… awful. And now that I don't have to do it I find I don't have the room to feel anything but happy for awhile. Join me? Be happy with me?"

And frankly the thought of just relaxing and enjoying each other is too tempting to turn down.

"Happiness it is, then." Regina agrees. "And as our first act, let's get your hungry child to Granny's and let him eat whatever he wants."

Robin squeezes her tightly, presses a peck into her cheek, and calls out, "Okay Roland, we are headed back to town."

"Where we belong," he finishes with a whisper in her ear.

Her cheeks heat, her face hurts from smiling.

There's a bit to work out, but they are where they belong. For now.