Regina stood at the window to the cabin, looking out into the night. The candle she held did nothing to illuminate the darkness outside, but she kept it anyway. The light, however small, was a comfort to her, and she would need it while she waited. She never could sleep when Robin stayed out later than had been expected.

The sheriff position had been both a blessing and a curse. With taxpayer money and sanction from the King, they were able to provide more aid and do more good for the people of Nottingham than Robin had ever been able to as a humble bandit. But there were always those who sought to prey on the weak, and it was Robin's job as sheriff to deal with them, usually in more direct methods than he had done as an outlaw.

It had been three years since he had been given the position, and Regina nearly always worried when he went out. But it was nights like these, when he was late, that were the worst. Things always seemed to turn out, though. True, there had been some close calls and Robin had a few more scars than he'd worn when they'd first met, but luck so far had been on their side. The city was the safest it had ever been under Robin's care, and there had been no serious accidents. But every night like this always caused Regina to worry that maybe this would be the one time when their luck ran out.

She didn't know how long she stared out into the darkness, looking for any sign of Robin's group of men. She must have dozed off at one point because she awoke with her check pressed to the glass and her candle burned significantly lower. Outside, she could see a group of torches, but they weren't headed toward the cabin. They were headed toward the healer's hut

Regina grabbed her shawl and hurried out into the night. The camp at Sherwood Forrest may have been a thing of the past, but Regina and Robin had opened up their home as a refuge for the poor and helpless or other people who needed more aid than the city could provide. Sometimes, people were sick or wounded and a physician could not be obtained. Regina had learned the various herbs of the forest and how to use them to heal. While Robin hunted down the bad guys, Regina treated their victims.

She wasn't thinking of much as she approached the hut. She had treated many of Robin's men in the past - John, David, Much, Alan, even Tuck once - she ran their faces through her head. They'd held various injuries, and not all from battles with outlaws. Tuck, in his carelessness, had trod on a bee's nest and he'd been brought to Regina to reduce the swelling and remove the stingers. Most of her experience had been with moderate to minor wounds, and hardly ever had she needed to do more for Robin than stitch him up.

That's why when she opened the door to the hut, she was completely taken aback to see her husband lying on the table, unconscious and his clothes bloodied.

"All, right lads!" ordered John. "Clear out!"

The hut was small with room for a table on which to rest a patient, shelves on either side of the single room for storing herbs and other materials, and enough space for one person to walk in front and along the sides of the table. Regina preferred it that way. It gave the perfect excuse to eject worried family members or friends from the hut. It gave her space to work and the ability to do so in peace.

But tonight she was grateful that John stayed with her.

"What happened?" she insisted, as she pushed her way past the fleeing bodies and into the hut, closing the door behind her.

"We were attacked," he told her as they began removing the necessary pieces of Robin's clothing to better assess the damage. "Outside the city. They went straight for Robin. We tried to offer resistance, but it was like they weren't interested in the rest of us."

Robin's wounds were extensive, covering multiple areas of his body. She'd never treated so much at once. But she had seen many people in this hut over the years. By now, it was easy for her to push the concern from her mind and get to work.

"Water," she said, going for the door.

Robin's men were used to the routine by now, and an outstretched hand had a bucket of water ready for her as soon as she opened the door.

"Was anyone else hurt?" she asked. It was an automatic question. She was used to treating or at least examining multiple people when Robin's men were involved.

"They'll tend to themselves," said John as Regina dipped some rags into the water and began washing's Robin's wounds. His words went without saying. Everyone understood who was top priority right now. Robin's injuries were far worse than anyone else's could possibly be at the moment.

Robin never made a sound as Regina washed away the blood obscuring the truth of his injuries. Though he seemed to be drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness, murmuring incoherently as he rocked his head from side to side.

At first, his injuries didn't seem that severe, however numerous. John helped her as they mixed an herbal paste and applied it to Robin's wounds before adding bandages. All seemed to be going well until Robin suddenly coughed up blood.

Regina and John shared a look. Then Regina immediately back to applying bandages, trying to distract herself form the panic rising in her chest.

"Did someone send for a physician?" she asked, her voice far more calm than she was feeling.

John nodded, but when he spoke, there was little confidence in his voice. "It's like they knew the exact place to attack," he said, looking at Robin. "So taking him back to the city wouldn't be an option."

Regina continued applying bandages, but John seemed frozen in place, unable to do anything as he stared down at his best friend. Coughing up blood was never a good sign, but Regina didn't understand the inner workings of the body. If something was wrong internally that she couldn't see, she couldn't cut into Robin to fix him up like a physician could. But they were a ways from the city. They had built their home like that purposefully, to provide some peace from Nottingham's hectic life. Now, it seemed, their choice would cost them.

Regina tried not to let the fear overcome her. She turned to look at Robin's face. He had stopped muttering and rolling his head, but he was breathing shallowly. She touched his face, and his skin was cold. Upon further examination, she realized he was drenched in cold sweat.

"Blanket," she said to John, who didn't move. "John! Blanket!" she tried again more forcefully.

He jumped and grabbed the heavy wool blanket from behind him and together they draped it over Robin's body. Regina continued with the herbal paste and bandages. The night was cool, but Robin felt much too cold for the temperature outside.

Fears and worries came over her, but she pushed them down. She had to remain calm. Worrying wouldn't do any good. She had to keep going with what she knew best and hope her fears were unjustified.

John, at last, busied himself with the bandages, bringing the scene back to some sense of normality. But Robin coughed up more blood, and Regina had to take a step back and close her eyes to force her emotions down. Her chest burned with anxiety, and she was reminded of her time as Rumple's apprentice, when she had forced down all her emotions and turned them into anger as a fuel for her magic.

She was struck with an idea. She had never used magic to heal before, but it was worth a try. Tentatively, she stretched her hands over Robin's body and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate.

"What are you doing?" asked John.

"Shush." She focused on her fears - all of them - at the thought that Robin was dying and she was powerless to stop it, at the thought of losing him after so short a time, and the thought that even though outside forces were working to bring aid, it might be too late. She took her fear and her despair and forced it down, willing herself to remain calm. But her chest and stomach burned. There was power there and she could use it.

She imagined her fear rising up through her arms and out her fingertips, filtering through her forced shield of calm into warm healing light. And the more she focused, she warmer her hands felt. She knew it was working because John gasped, and soon after she could sense light trying to filter through her eyelids.

She opened her eyes and saw her hands were glowing purple and a thin layer of the same color light was spreading over Robin. What wounds hadn't been bandaged were slowly pulling themselves back together. But it wasn't nearly fast enough. She needed to go deeper.

She closed her eyes and returned to her emotions, calling them forward. She thought of the day she and Robin had met, that first ray of hope, their multiple struggles of distrust and doubt until they were finally able to be together. She thought of their wedding day, their honeymoon, all the plans they had made and fulfilled and others they would never complete if Robin couldn't be with her. The fact that they had never had children.

She thought of it all until she felt tears threatening to well up. She forced it all down into her stomach and then pushed it out through her fingers, willing the energy into Robin with a pulsing blast. She heard his body convulse against the table.

"Regina!" John yelled, alarmed.

But Regina wouldn't stop. She had to be sure. She had to go deep enough to fix whatever was damaged. Her arms were shaking from the power coursing through them. She dug into her emotions, forcing the magic into Robin, until she thought she might scream from the weight of it all. But instead of screaming, everything went dark.

When Regina awoke, her head felt groggy, like she had slept far longer than she should have and her mind wasn't sure what to do with it all. Robin was sitting next to her on top of their bed, and he had the most relieved look on his face.

"You're all right," he breathed, and he quickly pulled her into an embrace.

She would have been more happy to see him alive and well had she not been so confused. "What happened?"

Robin slowly pulled back from her. "John said you used magic."

It took a moment for Regina to remember, but the events of the night came to her. "How long was I asleep."

"A whole day and then some," said Robin. Regina noticed that despite her efforts, he still wore bandages - one across his shoulder, another around his upper arm. Though those were the only ones she could see, she suspected he had more. "I awoke in the morning, after you treated me. You slept the whole day, and now it's around noon." He paused for moment. "I wasn't sure you'd wake."

"I didn't mean to scare you," she said, his look of concern reflected on her own face as she reached up to cup his check. The fact that she'd nearly lost him was sinking in.

"What did you mean to do?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, pulling her hand away as she tried to remember her exact focus with the magic. "I just wanted to heal you. I didn't want you die." She took his face into her hands again, absentmindedly stroking the stubble on his cheek. "I guess my emotions were chaotic and so was the magic."

"Not that I'm ungrateful," he said, putting an arm around her. "But are you planning on trying it again?"

"I don't think so," she said. It wasn't an experience or situation she wished to repeat.

"Good," he told her. And then he put his mouth to hers and pulled her close.

She gripped the collar of his shirt and gave herself to the kiss and the feel of his arms. And they were like that for a minute or two, basking in fact that they still had each other when they'd thought all might be lost. And when they parted, Robin leaned back against the pillows and Regina rested her head on his chest. If she caused him any discomfort, he didn't indicate it.

"Do you think we'll hear from him?" Robin asked after a few moments as he stroked her hair.

"Him?" asked Regina.

"Your mentor."

"Oh." They never spoke of him by name. Name had power, especially where Rumpelstiltskin was concerned. "I don't think so."

"You used magic," Robin told her. "And he wanted you as an apprentice."

Regina lifted herself to face him. "Even if he came back, do you think I'd go with him?"

"No," he said honestly. "I'm just wondering if I should expect him to show up at the door." He looked from their room into their dining area when the front door was located like he was trying to decide if he should place an ax next to it.

"I'd think after all this time, he'd have given up on me," she said, returning to rest her head on him.

"A man such as he?" said Robin, returning to stroking her hair. "I doubt it. I imagine a man such as he has a plan."

She knew he was right, but she didn't want to talk about Rumpelstiltskin. Life was so much easier when she pushed him from her mind and pretended he was no longer a factor in her life. She settled into the blanket, getting comfortable, her thoughts venturing to other things.

"What happened that night, Robin?" she asked.

He didn't answer right away. "We cleared the streets of Nottingham years ago," he said. "And made a lot of enemies in the process. Time has passed, and they're gathering force to strike back. I'm the main target."

Regina gripped the blanket beneath her, trying not to focus on the thought that it might not be the last time she'd see Robin on the healing table.

This is a sequel to my earlier fic "The Man with the Lion Tattoo," which centers around what might have happened had Regina entered the tavern to speak with Robin as Tinkerbell had encouraged. You can find the previous installment on my profile.