AN: I was listening to some older music the other night, and I found that I couldn't stop thinking about a certain song. Have A Little Faith In Me, John Hiatt. If you listen to the lyrics, you can see the elements that inspired me. Such a beautiful song for a beautiful couple.

She was an absolute mess, and it was all because of him. She clutched tighter at the covers, her eyes puffy and swollen from having spent the whole night crying. Her heart was broken, and there was simply no denying it. She had given him her heart, and his words had shattered it to pieces. Her only comfort was the sound of the thunder rumbling outside and rattles of the window from the tremors it caused. A soft knock sounded at the door, but she didn't want anyone to see her like this. "Go away," she croaked.

Robert heard the feeble voice and a sharp pang of guilt pierced his heart. "Cora, darling, may I come in," he fought to keep his voice even.

"I would really rather you didn't," she replied in a tone that worried him greatly.

Against her wishes he opened the door to find the room in almost complete darkness, and her white pallor shined in comparison to the shadows around her. From his distance he could already see that she had been crying, for her eyes glimmered with the promise of more tears, and she possessed dark circles beneath them.

"Oh, Cora. It pains me to see you in this state," his voice softened, as he slowly approached her.

"I apologize for my appearance, I know that this is not what is expected of me as the wife of a Lord." She mumbled. He sat down beside her on the bed, his palm twitching with the urge to reach out and stroke her cheek.

"I'm not concerned about that at all, darling," he sighed, fidgeting with his cufflinks as he tried to find appropriate words.

"No, you wouldn't be, would you," she said quietly, staring straight ahead on her side.

He couldn't take it anymore, he reached out for her, and she jerked back at his touch as if it burned her. "Cora," he gasped, shocked at her reaction.

"Don't. Just don't Robert. Don't you dare pretend that you care when you know as well as I that you don't. I love you, but it is clear to me that this is not a marriage of love," she shuddered as she began to sob again, "And it never will be!"

His stomach lurched as he realized how badly he had hurt her, and he couldn't think of what to do. He felt like sobbing himself, but he had to stay strong and make her know that he really did care. He slid off of the bed to his knees, kneeling in front of her tear-stained face, looking into her haunting baby blues. The sorrow he found their shook him to his very soul, and as he reached for her hand, he spoke very softly to her. "You know the reason as to why we were married, and I know that this has been a very uneven relationship. I have not been good to you, Cora, and I am deeply ashamed by this." He squeezed her hand tightly, "However, you act as though you are meaningless to me and that is far from the truth. I do care for you, Cora. I care for you greatly. Just be patient with me, and I promise, I will be defenseless when it comes to you."

Cora swallowed hard as she stared into his stormy blues, "I find it hard to allow myself to become hopeful again, Robert. We've been together for months now and you still won't even stay in bed with me. You won't allow me in, and it kills me." Tears blurred her vision, and suddenly she felt his arms around her.

"It's hard for me to open up," he said softly, stroking her hair, "But seeing how badly I have hurt you, I really want to make an effort for you, Cora." His anxieties were beginning to return and his breathing became shallow as he grew upset, "I am guilty of being a horrid and selfish husband, and for neglecting my wonderful wife, and I don't think I can forgive myself for this." He pulled back, and he felt his eyes spill over.

Cora watched as tears began to stream down his face, surprising her greatly. It was then that she finally noticed his poorly bandaged hand, dried blood caked to his fingers. "Robert! What happened to your hand," she gasped, her eyes widening with concern.

He winced as he remembered the injury once more, "I squeezed a glass too hard," he said sheepishly, "The doctor is supposed to be coming to have a look."

"You poor thing! That has to be very painful," she questioned, and suddenly, her concern for his health overwhelmed her feelings of grief over their relationship.

Robert was once more astonished by her unrelenting love for him and how powerful it was. After all he had put her through the past few months, she fell to pieces at a small injury to his hand. He fought the urge to smile as the thought warmed him his soul. "To be honest, I keep forgetting that it exists. I am certain that I will survive it." He deadpanned and gave her a serious look, but when she smacked his arm, she gave him a small smile, giving him hope that he still had a chance to fix everything.

A knock on the door announced the arrival of the doctor, and Robert stood to head back downstairs. "Now, Cora, darling, why don't you go take a nice and relaxing bath?"

"That actually sounds like a wonderful idea. I'm afraid that my night was rather restless," she dropped that sentence, not desiring to go backwards. "Robert?"

"Yes, Cora," he inquired, gazing at her as he waited for her response.

"Do you think that maybe you could read to me later," she asked shyly, not making direct eye contact with him.

He smiled, knowing how much she liked it when he read to her, and he had to admit, he enjoyed reading almost as much as he enjoyed seeing her happy. "I think that sort of thing can be arranged."

He left the room, leaving Cora to her thoughts. I don't want to let him go. I want to believe in him and all of his promises. She sighed, knowing that he would have to prove himself to her, but she couldn't help but feel a small inkling of hope.

As the doctor cleaned his hand, Robert tried to drive away the stinging pain with thoughts of Cora. He knew that he was a fool, and he despised himself for what he had done to her, but he vowed to devote himself to her in an attempt to make her happy and treat her like the beautiful being that she was. Lord Grantham watched as his son's hand was tended to, but he wasn't focused on the bandages. His eyes were keenly watching the young man's expression. He knew that his son hadn't figured it out yet, but he knew that he truly loved his wife, and he hoped with everything in him that he had raised Robert well enough to be able to repair the damage he had so recklessly caused. If something happened to that girl, it would destroy him. With his advancing age, he knew that his son's decisions were crucial to the survival of Downton, and though Robert may not have realized yet how grave it was for him to steady his relationship, it was clear to him that they could not fail. With a sigh and a sip of his drink, he shook the thoughts away. He's your son. Have a little faith.