Dying was an odd sensation, he decided. His mind appeared to be alert, or at least, intact with whatever constituted him still having a mind. But everything before him lay blank and dark. Almost like a burnt out bulb that had died out, but was still attached to the source of where its energy once came from.

He did recall that rather chaotic transition from the before to the now. His life flashed before his eyes in bits and pieces. Some memories old, some from the present. But always one piece stayed the same. She was at the center of each picture.

He tried desperately now, straining his burned out eyes to conjure up the mental image of her. He cooked up her likeness through words, trying to mentally arrange them in a way that would trigger the part of his brain that could manifest images. But it soon became apparent that part of his mind was gone. For he couldn't see her, no matter how desperately he tried.

His lips parted. Funny, he still had some control over that aspect of his lifeless body, and he urged her name to pass through his them. But no sound emitted. He closed his mouth, and then he felt his throat as he tried to swallow. The raw pain ran down his insides, making him cringe.

How peculiar, Robert thought. Wasn't death supposed to be void of any suffering? Wasn't that what was preached each Sunday? That death was a freeing experience that released ones soul from earthly burdens? Or had he gravely misinterpreted this bit of scripture?

He swallowed again, feeling that same burn race down his throat. And it was then he began to doubt the validity of his own death.

Perhaps it was the sound of steady breathing that gave it away next. But he opened his mouth, and tried calling out. Hello? Someone there? And a noise did reach his own ears, an entirely foreign sound that seemed nonsensical. Hello? He mouthed again, this time an, 'lo? sound returning to his ears.

Was it? No, surely it wasn't him, hearing his own words reach his ears. He wasn't alone. It was the someone who was very much alive still breathing deep enough for it to reach his ears.

He tried turning round, tried to see behind him. Not that it would do any good. He was staring bloody darkness straight in the eye. And besides, it appeared his body wouldn't turn the way he wanted it to. Something was pinning him down. Some unknown weight held him fast where he should feel his legs.

Then another realization: he couldn't feel his legs.

Panicked, the breathing noise intensified. He felt blood rushing through his ears as his heart picked up its pace. It hammered to life, and his eyelids sprung open.

He was alive, after all. Death hadn't come to claim him.

His eyes darted around the room, trying to detect his surroundings for something familiar, anything. The walls were wood paneled, the curtains of the tiny windows drawn shut, but the brilliant rays of sunshine glowed from behind the white fabric. He certainly wasn't at home in his bed, nor was he fast asleep in her dressing room.

Lifting his head from the pillow, Robert winced, a sharp pain shooting through his stomach. But what his eyes then took in made every sore nerve entirely worth it. For she was at the center of his frame of vision once more.

Her body was slumped forward in an armchair pulled right beside his bed, her head resting atop folded arms that stretched across his legs. Clearly, the source of his semi-paralyzed state. Or so, he hoped. And then he heard the quiet but steady, inhale and exhale of every breath she took while she slumbered soundly.

She wore a familiar gown. Expensively embroidered gold, her arms half bare peeking out from beneath the cloak that was edged with fur around the collar. Her hair was frazzled, but still maintained some style to it, more pieces that were once coiled tight, now looser. And her coronet had been removed. Whether by her or someone else, he couldn't say.

His eyes glazed over with tears from the sight of her. She had been with him when death had almost been swift and certain. She had stayed through the worst of it, not wanting him to have to face it alone.

And it was this thought, mingled with the now unbearable pain that coursed through his middle that prompted him to groan out loud and fall loudly back against the pillows.

There was a sharp intake of breath from the lower half of the bed, and he felt the weight lift off the lower half of his body. Pins and needles jabbed into his extremities as the blood flow was restored.

Thank God, he contemplated; he still had use of his legs.

His heart raced, his free hand flying to his stomach, and he breathed raggedly. Robert closed his eyes, trying to quietly persevere through his pain while the familiar rattling of beads and the swishing of soft skirts filled his ears.

A soft hand curled around his other one, and he tilted his head forward on his pillow just enough to see her, perched on the edge of his mattress. His hand cradled in between both of hers that she now placed in her lap.

He saw the waves of relief rippling through her light blue eyes. The edges of her lips dared to reach joyously upward, and he found himself trying a smile himself in response, despite the pounding that now pulsated behind his temples.

She leaned closer, blinking faster, reaching for the side of his face and gently touching her fingertips to his flesh. "Robert," She inhaled uncertainly, her eyes searching his for some sort of recognition.

And she found it whenever he exhaled with every bit of strength that lingered inside his fragile body, "Cora." His eyes fluttered shut as he turned his face more fully into the palm of her hand.

"Oh," He heard her breathe out, as if she'd been holding this single breath the entire time since their eyes first met.

Then he felt both of her palms, warm against his cheeks before her soft lips descended upon his. And as he felt her press into his mouth, new sensations erupted inside of him; replacing any unpleasant symptoms he took stock of during his semi-conscious state. He forgot about the dull burning within his lungs that was felt at every draw of breath. He swallowed back the nasty metallic taste that lingered in his mouth. His stomach was more at ease, his mind quieter, and the tears that clung to his lashes now did so for reasons that didn't amount to any of these physical ailments.

It was the sweetest kiss he ever tasted, and he never wanted it to end. But soon after, he found himself relishing in the sensation of her balmy breath dancing across his parted lips whenever she broke contact, keeping their foreheads pressed together.

"My dearest…" He murmured hoarsely, the words scratching at his throat while he blindly reached for one of her wrists, "my dearest one…" He finally grasped her in between his curled hand, holding fast to her.

He would never let go. Not so long as he had his wits about him.

Robert heard a peal of relieved laughter escape her as she whispered, "Oh Robert, you're here. You're really here now." Her fingertips lightly traced across his jaw, her nose brushing over top of his.

"Thank...thank heavens..." He rasped in between heavy breaths, his heart beating harder from the effort. "Cora..." He breathed out again, a slight cough, followed by the instinctive tightening of his middle accompanied the soft.

"Steady now, darling," She murmured sweetly, moving to place another lingering kiss at his forehead. He felt her cheek against his head while she continued on soothingly, "Don't strain yourself."

He would do anything she told him at present if it meant feeling her this close to him. If it meant catching breath after breath of her sweet perfume. If it meant feeling the warmth of her skin touching his. He would do anything.

After a few moments, she slowly sat back on the mattress, her hand easily sliding back into place with his. He opened his eyes once more, seeing her smile tearfully at him. He managed his best grin in response, although he doubted it appeared half as joyous as the expression she now wore.

"You...you...stayed...all night?"

It seemed such an obvious question. She was still clad in evening attire. But the methodical and unpleasant thumping returned to his head, his thoughts swimming among the aching. He couldn't bother with rational conversation.

But she didn't seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn't mind as she nodded, her grip on his hand tightening.

"You really shouldn't…have," He coughed a bit, feeling her hand tug on his. Clearing his throat, he managed, "Once you knew we were in the clear...you should have…"

"Hush now," Cora soothed, lifting his hand to her lips. Her breath felt warm spreading across his knuckles whenever she murmured in between the soft kisses she planted there, "I couldn't leave you."

His eyelids were growing heavier with each passing moment, but her words rang loud and clear. His lips cracked into a weakened smile as he mused, "Nor I you, apparently."

A spurt of laughter trickled through the air, and he caught her grin creasing even deeper at his words.

Robert's free hand moved towards her lap, but he winced from the stabbing sensation that erupted from him twisting his body to one side. He felt her hand tense in his, and her widened eyes were all he needed to see for him to ease back down onto the bed.

"Clarkson says you shouldn't move so much if you can help it," She spoke softly, and all he could do was nod in agreement.

Yes, that would be sensible wouldn't it? He thought dryly.

"Are you in terrible pain?" She wondered, her eyes clouding over with worry. "Because we can give you something for…"

"No," He interjected more gruffly than he intended. But he immediately amended it with a tired smile and a squeeze of her hand, "I'll manage."

It took her a moment to believe him, but she eventually conceded with a slight nod of her head.

They sat quietly together, their hands joined, gazes assessing one another with a sort of reverence that made them keenly aware of their need for each other. After all these years, after everything they weathered, they still needed one another just as desperately as they did whenever they first married all those years ago. But it was borne for different reasons.

Before they needed one another to navigate the tumultuous waves of high society and land in a respectable place among their peers that would amount to a promising life. Now, they needed each other to stave off the feeling of the inevitable. To forget that more days lay behind them than ahead of them. And to make the most of the present as that seemed to be the only thing guaranteed to them.

He broke contact with her eyes, glancing at the empty space over her shoulders. A slight frown seized his mouth, his brow creasing as he suddenly realized it was just the two of them. And even though he knew there had to be a reason, there was a flutter of worry in his tummy whenever he inquired, "The girls? Where…?"

"I sent them home to sleep once everything seemed alright," She leaned forward, adjusting the collar of his shirt. Stroking the curve of where his neck met his shoulder, she explained simply, "I thought it sensible for them to rest."

"Yes," He inclined his head, muttering in agreement. "Very sensible."

Robert let out a heavy breath before drawing another one in cautiously. The pain still resonated deep within his middle, but with a little care, it subsided. He looked up to the ceiling, and he blinked a few times, certain thoughts running through his mind.

He was alive. But at what cost? For how long? Thus far, all signs pointed to the fact that he'd recover. But he couldn't be sure. The throbbing pain in his gut suggested an alternative, even if Cora seemed completely at ease at the present.

Finally, after several moments of silence, he heard her ask, "Would you like to rest?"

His eyes darted downward, finding hers once more. Lips curling at the edges, he decided with a slight shake of his head, "Not just yet."

She smiled in return, and he extended an arm, reaching for her shoulder. Sensing he couldn't quite reach her without shifting his position and disturbing his stomach, she leaned forward. He brushed his fingers across the embroidered silk of her coat, tracing lines up along the soft expanse of her neck until her finally felt the warmth of her cheek against his palm. The endeavor took a great deal of energy to achieve, but it was worth every exhausted nerve inside of him.

"I want to...to look at you a little while longer," He told her weakly, his eyes glossing over her seated form once more, hand slowly falling back down to his earthly bed.

Cora's brow arched, her lips fused together as they trembled from his words. And he noticed her forcing a smile to dispel the other feelings that no doubt threatened to overwhelm her at present. "Good," She breathed sharply, her gaze sweeping downward to the middle of his chest and then back up to studying the length of his face. Shifting closer, she swallowed and then admitted, "Because I'm not finished looking at you either."

Her fingers caressed the length of his angular jaw, moved across his cheek before she lightly touched his chin as if to prove her point. It was so gentle and sweet that he felt the bridge of his nose growing heavier.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he couldn't stop the feelings from spilling forth from behind closed lids. Just as he couldn't help the fear that pervaded his tone whenever he muttered, "I thought I'd never get to see you..."

"I know," She finished quickly, her hand retracing its path back up over the side of his face until she cupped the base of his skull. He felt her breath dancing across his mouth whenever she whispered, "I tried not to think it, but…" Her forehead pressed into his for a second as the rest of her words failed her.

"It's alright," He tried, bringing his hand to her head, fingering the edges of her loosened curls. "It's...it's going to be alright," He attempted to soothe in spite of his voice quivering. "I-isn't it?"

"Yes," She sighed raggedly before moving to press a chaste kiss at his forehead. "Yes," She said again, sitting up straighter. She brushed at the corners of her eyes with her fingers and cleared her throat. Looking at him, she explained evenly, "The surgery went well. Clarkson thinks you'll make a full recovery. But..." She inhaled and released a steady breath, "...there are to be changes."

He closed his eyes, and nodded a bit. Of course. "I'm sure," He agreed, not even bothering to put up an argument with her. He knew she wouldn't budge on this, not after everything that had transpired. And he couldn't blame her. "But…" He opened his eyes again, finding her determined gaze piercing through him, "...darling…must we...discuss them now?"

Her serious expression lifted and she assured with a warm smile, "Oh no, we need not now. Later. Once you're better rested." She nodded to show she wouldn't forget the need for a discussion, no matter how sensitive to his condition her face might read.

"You know Cora," He started, looking down at their hands, still holding tightly to each other. He placed his free one over top of them, his thumb tracing slow circles against the back of her hand. "I…I meant what…what I said."

She didn't confirm or deny that she knew. And he wouldn't say the words that would paint the picture of the horrific scene that unfolded at dinner. There was no need. But there was every need to tell her again. Because he could now. He could, and he would continue to.

So Robert lifted his eyes to discover her staring back at him thoughtfully, patiently awaiting for him to continue. Although once he heard her suck in a breath, and saw her beautiful crystal blue eyes sparkling at him with recognition. Almost like she could read the words as if they were written across his face.

I have loved you very, very much.

He opened his mouth, but found his throat growing thick again. Everything looked foggy again, and he was losing his calm.

If she noticed she didn't allow it to affect her. His heart surged whenever he felt her grip his hand tightly, the edges of her lips twitching.

"I know," She whispered softly. "And I have loved you all the same."

Robert closed his eyes, feeling her fingertips brush across his cheek. And how sweet it was to be alive, and to be loved.