one shots||ouat

Bend

A/N This was written by Christi and I had nothing to do with this because I just started watching Teen Wolf. This is season 4 stuff with Derek and Braeden and if you haven't watched and don't want spoilers, I suggest on holding off reading this. But if you don't watch Teen Wolf or just don't care about spoilers, then here you go. I myself didn't want spoilers, but nooo my friends just had to make this before I even finished season 2. But here you go, some Outlaw Queen to ease your sorrows. -TheDerpyOncers, Emily.

Regina's eyes opened, and she sat up, adjusting to her surroundings. He'd brought her back to his loft from the hospital, and she could barely feel any pain from the gunshot wound. He saved her life, but she could tell something was up with him.

She got out of bed and walked over to the couch where he lay, quietly, so he wouldn't notice. Red stained a small area on his white shirt, from the bullet wound that should have healed by then. She gingerly uncovered the wound, confused as to why it was still there. Before she could look any closer, his hands gripped hers. She sighed and looked away.

"What are you doing?" Robin asked, a banterful tone in his voice. He looked down at her hands, and then back at her.

"Protecting my investment." she claimed.

"Hmm." he slightly nodded, obviously not believing Regina's excuse.

"Why aren't you healing?" She questioned, a concerned look plastered on her face.

"Some wounds take longer." he said with a smug smile, but Regina saw him hesitate a bit.

"And some leave scars. But not for people like you," He looked at her as if she were worried about nothing, "So, what's going on?"

"Maybe I'm just tired." He let go of her hands and turned back around.

"Robin." She said, unamused. "Show me your eyes."

"You just saw them." He said, not turning around.

She paused momentarily, smirking a little before continuing, "Show me your real eyes."

Robin turned over slowly, staring at the ceiling before looking at Regina.

His blue eyes stayed the same. Nothing changed.

"Okay." She nodded, the information she just gained settling in. "Now, why don't you tell me what's really going on?"

He looked down, guilt covered his face.

~✷~

Regina cleaned and bandaged the wound. "It's just a graze," she informed him "But make sure it doesn't get infected."

Robin inspected the pad that covered his injury before putting his shirt back.

"That's probably something you've never had to worry about before, is it?" Regina walked around him.

Robin scoffed and shook his head.

"So it's everything then?" she continued, "No glowing eyes, no healing?"

"Smell, hearing, speed, everything." He finished, looking down at the table, reflecting on all he'd lost.

"Strength?" She asked.

Robin smiled smugly, "I can still win a fight."

Regina's peeved, mischievous expression clearly said that she didn't believe him. He was taken aback by her underestimating him.

She set her elbow down on the table, ready to arm wrestle. He chuckled, but she was ready to challenge him. Robin sighed, wrapping his hands around hers, ready to win.

"You ready?" She asked in a low, raspy voice.

"Mmm-hmm." He nodded, unfazed.

"One... two..." She stopped counting. Robin lifted his eyebrows, urging her to continue. Instead, she jabbed him in the wound with her free hand and took his arm down with the other.

Robin grunted, "Aw, you cheated, that- that's cheating," he stuttered, groaning in pain.

"I won." She defended. "When you're a human facing off against the supernatural, you need to bend the rules a little bit," Regina explained.

"I'm gonna teach you how to bend."

~✷~

"This is a Sig Sauer P226 9mm." Regina set the gun down on the desk, smirking at the former werewolf.

"I don't like guns." He pointed out, unamused.

"That's because you've never learned to use one."

"Or because I've been shot. Repeatedly." He corrected, recalling all the bullets that had been put in his body.

"You'll like this one." she took the pistol, removing the clip. "The legal clip size in California is ten." Regina explained, "You always want to remember how many shots you fire. Running out of bullets can get you killed. It also makes you look stupid."

She slid the clip back in, putting it in Robin's hand. He took it, unenthused.

"But using a gun isn't just about learning how to point and shoot." Regina went on.

"Why's that?" Robin asked, not really interested.

"Because an average person can move twenty-one feet in 1.5 seconds. If they have a knife, they can gut you before you can pull and fire." she explained, "So with a gun, you need distance."

Robin pondered on what she said, while she walked away from the table, in front of him.

"Go for it. Pull the gun on me." She challenged. He chuckled, but he got into position, gun at his side. He lifts it up confidently, but Regina quickly disarms him.

"Um... so, yeah." He said, trying to play off the embarrassment.

"Wanna try again?"

"Mmm-hmm." He nodded, acting like his confidence totally didn't waver.

Robin cleared his throat, pulling the gun up, but once again, she almost instantly takes it from him.

Robin sighed, while Regina smiled, holding back laughter.

"One more time." Robin requested.

"I could do this all day," Regina smirked, walking closer to him. She waited, but instead Robin leaned in to kiss her.

Their lips met, and while she was distracted, Robin successfully managed to push the barrel of the gun into her stomach.

Regina pulled away slowly, not opening her eyes. "You cheated," she whispered.

"I'm learning to bend." he insisted.

Regina's lips smashed into his, and her arms wrapped around him. The former werewolf picked up the mercenary and placed her on the table, knocking the other weapons away.

~✷~

Robin woke up in the bed next to Regina, her hand on his chest. He smiled at her, and carefully removed her hand so he wouldn't wake her. She turned away as he walked over to the table, an array of guns on top. His eyes scanned the weapons.

He knew that he no longer could use his werewolf abilities. If he wanted to protect the people he cared about, he had to learn to fight like what he was becoming. A human.