Miracles Can Happen

Stumbling Blocks

Robin tapped his foot as he sat at a retro diner in the middle of Manhattan, nursing a cup of coffee as he stared at the door. He hadn't intended on calling Regina so soon, hoping to take a few weeks to adjust to living with his family. Of course, he hadn't fully comprehended when Gold told them that it had been five years. He still had expected to go home to his wife and baby son. While he had gone home to his wife, his son certainly was no baby.

He rubbed his face as he thought of the kindergartener in the house in Brooklyn, the boy with the mop of unruly dark curls and curious brown eyes. The one who still hadn't said a full sentence to him and who still hid from him. Nothing Robin did could draw his son out of his shell, could get him to talk to him. Instead, Roland clung to Marian or insisted on spending time with Mulan. He never wanted to be alone with Robin, with the father who came back from being an angel.

Part of Robin felt selfish to contact Regina, knowing she probably had her own adjustments to make. Yet he believed she was the only one who would understand what he was going through. He needed someone he could talk to. Perhaps she needed someone to talk to as well. At least, he hoped so-which made him feel like a horrible person. Shouldn't he be hoping her adjustment went smoother than his?

Yet she had accepted his invitation and had suggested her favorite diner. That had to be a good sign, he told himself.

The door opened and Regina stepped in, dressed in a plain gray t-shirt with a black vest and a pair of black jeans. She greeted the staff warmly before waving to Robin. He waved back, his heart beating faster when he saw her. It then sank when he noticed how pale she looked and the dark circles under her eyes. Robin knew her transition hadn't been as smooth as his and he felt even worse for dragging her out.

She pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. A waitress brought out a cup of coffee for her and she thanked the young woman. Regina took a sip before looking up at him. "Forgive my bluntness, but you look as shit."

He chuckled. "Forgive my equal bluntness, but so do you."

"So does it mean you feel as shitty as I do?" she asked, sounding somewhat hopeful.

"Probably," he replied. "Do you want to share your damage first or hear mine?"

She gave him the ghost of a smile. "Why don't we take turns?"

"Sounds fair," he replied, motioning to her. "Ladies first."

"Of course you would say that." She took a deep breath. "My mother died."

She hadn't said much about her mother but the little she had said hadn't left him with good feelings about the woman. Yet he knew that she still had loved her mother and no doubt regretted not having a chance to build a better relationship with the woman. He reached out and covered her hand with his. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," she said, her voice scratchy. "It only happened a few months ago. My father is still in shock, I think."

He nodded. "Understandable."

She let out a shuddering breath. "And you know what makes it worse? I found out she spent the last five years of her life looking for me and Henry. And not for publicity but because she believed we were alive. She truly loved me and I never got to tell her how much I loved her."

"I'm sure she knew," he told her. "No matter how much you two fought...she knew. I'm sure of it."

Regina grabbed a napkin and dabbed her eyes. She sniffed as she said: "Okay, it's your turn."

"My son is five years old and runs away whenever he sees me," Robin answered, sighing. "I can't seem to bond with him."

"It's only been a week," she pointed out. "You have to give him time. You technically came back from the dead."