A/N: Whew! This one was difficult. Lots of introspective stuff, and I had to really work to make sure it flowed and wasn't all choppy and ridiculous-sounding transitions when analyzing feelings and stuff. There's gonna be a lot of that in the next chapter, too, practically the whole chapter, I think, for both Regina and Robin, so I apologize in advance for the long wait ahead. :) And I'm sorry if that's not your cup of tea, but it really, really needs to be done to get the story where I want it to be.

Also: I AM COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT OVER THE OUTLAW QUEEN IN THAT EPISODE! Oh my god. Incredible. Honestly, I've never shipped anything in real time before, and this is SOOOOO hard. I didn't think it would be this hard, but... here's hoping they don't kill me from feels before the end of the season. :)

Enjoy!

Instead of improving, the queen's health worsened dramatically over the next few days. Her fever climbed higher and higher, and she woke often, wild-eyed, delirious, before being dragged back into her dreams moments later. Even asleep, she was so ill, deathly pale, held captive by feverish dreams. She cried out in her sleep— wordless cries, whimpers, pained moans, calling out for her mother, her father, someone named Daniel.

At least she wasn't throwing up anymore. A small consolation, but, what little food and medicines she managed to ingest were staying down. That had to be a good sign, he told himself, replacing the cool cloth on her forehead, the food, the herbs, they had to be helping. He had to believe that they were helping, that his efforts were not in vain. He had to believe that she was getting better.

He reaches out a hand, seized by the desire to touch her, to offer some support. But the desire to do so battled with his sense of propriety, his unwillingness to behave so familiarly with her. She was married. To the king. But her husband wasn't here, he rationalizes, and the man didn't care about her, wouldn't stay and take care of her even if he were in the castle. Robin was the one taking care of her, Robin was the one she had asked for.

Finally the need to touch her, to offer some comfort, some reassurance of his presence, of his support, wins out. He strokes her hair, then her cheek, feeling the unnatural heat of her fever, whispering words of strength, reminders that he was here for her, promises that he wouldn't leave her side until she was recovered.

Three days later, Regina was unconscious, she hadn't woken for over twelve hours, and quiet she was in her sleep. Not a good sign, the healer had said, not with her fever as high as ever. She had simply expended all her energy. There wasn't much hope left, the healer continued. The best that could be hoped for was that she would hang on long enough for the king to return, so he could say goodbye.

Robin continued to stay with the queen, attempting to lower her temperature, feeding her what little food and herbs he could manage during her brief periods of wakefulness.

But there was no change in her health, and nothing else he could do. He was growing helpless, and the intensity of his own desperation surprised him. Though, really, it shouldn't have. Wouldn't have, if he'd been honest with himself from the start. But it was more complicated than that.

Since he met her he had worked hard to convince himself that the only feelings he had for the queen were friendship. Perhaps an inappropriate level of friendship for a queen and a servant to share, but she had always been the one to take each step closer to him. He had remained as professional as he could with her. And despite his insatiable curiosity, he respected her privacy, asking personal questions of her very rarely, and then only when she gave him the opening. Any other feelings he had for her, he had always told himself, could be attributed to the fact that she was a beautiful woman, something he was not immune to, even if she was the queen. Over time, he had trained himself not to dwell on her beauty, to keep his thoughts respectful.

But now, with her so ill, he can no longer deny the level of fear that he feels, the terror that tears at his heart. Indeed, it had been present since she first became ill, but he'd managed to ignore it. He was used to stifling such thoughts about the queen. But he can't hold them back any longer, not with her in this condition. She is dying, and he is terrified. Terrified of losing her, though she is not his to lose. The idea of a world without her in it… he cannot even consider it.

He is in love with her, he finally admits to himself. On some level, he's known all along. Since her wedding, when he first felt the incredible, ridiculous wish to protect her from a world that has been nothing but cruel to her. That ridiculous wish that has never gone away, he realizes, despite his efforts to ignore it. And in that moment of realization come all the thoughts he's held back since the day he met her. Thoughts about the queen that were too personal, too familiar all come rushing to the front of his mind in a flood. She is a beautiful, incredible woman. And so, so strong, to overcome whatever pain is in her past and keep moving forward. And he wants to care for her, to kiss those perfect lips of hers, to hold her and protect her and never let her go. To keep her safe and ensure that her future holds nothing but happiness.

He is in love with her, and he would do absolutely anything to save her, to ensure she lives through this disease that seems determined to take her life. He takes her hand in his, trying to strengthen her, to channel some of his strength into helping her fight this. "Regina, come back," he whispers brokenly, "please."

He stays with her. He can't leave. Much as it hurts to see her like this, he cannot fathom leaving her side, leaving her alone while she fights this. Even if there's nothing else he can do, he can stay with her. He will stay with her, he has promised, he will not condemn her to fighting this alone, will not leave her to the loneliness she fears.

The next day, Robin is at the queen's side when an unfamiliar voice rings through the room, startling him. "Regina! You've been neglecting your lessons again. We've had this conversation before, dearie. If you're not committed, I can always find somebody else."

"Rumplestiltskin." Robin gasps, turning to see the man standing at the foot of Regina's bed. He had only met the man once, but he wasn't exactly someone you could forget. And… magic, Robin remembered suddenly. The man had powerful magic. He looked at the queen, pale and ill, but still incredibly beautiful,and feels renewed hope grow in his chest.

"What–what are you doing here?" Robin stammers.

"I came to see Regina of course," he says shortly. "And who are you? Oh, wait— the valet. Regina's new… friend."

Robin nods. "She's ill."

"Well, I can see that. Explains why she hasn't been coming to her lessons now, doesn't it?"

"Can you help her? You've been training her, surely you care enough about her to save her life." Robin asks desperately. She is dying, and he's done everything he can, but now the man in front of him is the only hope he has left.

"Help her?" Rumplestiltskin giggles, and Robin has to hold himself back from shouting at the man. "Yes, help her. She's dying. You have magic. Surely there's something you can do."

"Perhaps," he surveys the queen's prone form. "But why should I? Magic always comes with a price, and from where I sit…" he gestures to Regina, "it doesn't look like she's ready to pay it."

"Then I will," Robin says before he can even think about it, startling himself with his own determination. "Anything. Whatever you want. Just save her."

"You?" Rumplestiltskin asks with a laugh. "What could you possibly— Oh!" he cuts himself off gleefully. "Oh. You love her."

"I—"

"It's true, isn't it? You're in love with her. Ohhh, what an interesting development." He pauses thoughtfully. "You know she doesn't love you back, of course. She can't." he adds, his tone playful, despite the venom in his words. "She's not wired that way. Not anymore. Are you sure you want her alive?" he adds thoughtfully.

"Of course I want her to live," Robin says, aghast. "Why on earth…" He can't finish the sentence. "Can you save her?"

"It might be easier," the imp continues, ignoring Robin. "You won't have to watch her go about her life, knowing she'll never feel the same for you as you do for her."

"Whatever her feelings for me, at least she will be alive to feel them. Now, can you save her?"

"Touching. But no, I can't. She's too ill."

Robin moves toward him angrily, but before he can touch him, the imp disappears and rematerializes on the opposite side of the queen's bed. "You'd best be careful, dearie," he says, wagging a finger at Robin. "I'm not someone you want to anger."

Robin falls back into the chair at her side, his anger suddenly gone, staring at the queen's face. Those beautiful eyes… he'll never see her open them again. "She became ill over a week ago," he says helplessly, voice barely more than a whisper. "Why didn't you come looking for her sooner? Before she got so ill… you could have saved her."

"I was busy," the imp says flippantly. "But… I'm not sure the situation is as dire as you seem to think, dearie."

Robin looks at him, desperate for any hope. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just that I do believe she'll recover…" he declares cryptically, "if she's meant to." And disappears with a giggle and a cloud of smoke before Robin can say a word.

Though he has no idea what the imp's words could mean, he cannot stifle a flicker of hope as he looks down at the queen's face, smoothing back her hair. "Regina," he whispers, "come back. Please." He doesn't say come back to me. The imp is right, she doesn't love him. She is queen and he… he is nothing. But it doesn't matter. He loves her and he is not above begging for her to wake up, if only it would make a difference.

The day after Rumplestiltskin's unexpected visit, Regina miraculously awoke, early in the morning. Robin was sleeping restlessly beside her bed, and immediately jerked awake at the sound of her voice.

"Robin? … What? … I told you…" she murmured, attempting to sit up.

"Regina!" he exclaims, startled. She's awake, she's talking to him, she seems lucid. He barely dares to hope that this means she'll recover, that she'll be okay. "Hey," he says gently. "How are you feeling? No, don't try to get up, my — your majesty. Save your strength. I imagine you're still very weak." He reaches out a gentle hand to touch her forehead, and breathes a sigh of relief. "I think your fever has finally broken, Regina," he says, moving his hand from her forehead to stroke her hair. "Thank heaven. We thought we were going to lose you."

"You … what?" Her voice is weak, but it's clear, no longer muddled by fever. "Why — why are you here? I — I told you not to stay…"

"Someone had to stay with you … you were so ill… Don't you remember?"

"I was… I was getting better. And then… I had a fever…? I don't remember…"

"I'm not surprised. You developed a high fever five days ago, and you've been unconscious for almost three days straight. We thought…" He breathes a huge sigh of relief. She is awake, and lucid, with what looks like a chance at a recovery he hadn't dared to hope for yesterday. "I'm so glad you're awake," he breathes, taking one of her hands in his. "So glad." He pauses. "How — how are you feeling, Regina?"

"I… better. Much better." She pauses. "Hungry."

"I can go get you something to eat, your majesty. I'll bring the healer, too. She'll be glad to see you are doing better. Don't — don't overtax yourself. Don't try to get up, okay? Not until the healer sees you, not until we know you're really better."

"I am feeling much better, Robin," she insists, moving to get up.

"Regina, please," he implores, and his tone causes her to pause. "You've been very ill. You really scared me — us — everyone. Just… stay here. Let her take a look at you. Please."

"I… alright." She nods.

He returns quickly with the healer, and the woman is amazed at her recovery. It's a miracle, she says, she had been convinced the queen would not recover, but now Regina appears to be out of danger entirely. She prescribes rest and food and water, and warns Robin not to allow her any strenuous activity for at least a few days so she can properly build up her strength.

Day by day, the queen's health improves. Relief swells in Robin's chest as she grows stronger. But his anxiety grows, as well. Now that Regina was no longer at death's door, and he was starting to understand the consequences of his realization.

He is in love with her.

He's in lovewith the queen. She is queen, and as wonderful a feeling as his love for her is, as happy as he is to see her recover from this illness, as much joy as he gets out of her smile, he can't. He can't take her into his arms like he wanted. He can't hold her, or kiss her, or give her the happiness and freedom she is so desperately seeking. He can't even tell her how he feels, he won't burden her with that. His feelings are his problem, and he refuses to force her to deal with them.

He doesn't know what to do. All he knows is that he can't go back to denying his feelings. And the imp was right, it hurts to see her like this, to love her like this, knowing she doesn't return his feelings. He could leave, he supposes, once she has recovered. Quit his job and leave. But he can't just leave her. Not when all he wants is to be near her, to make her happy. He thinks and thinks, trying to figure out a solution. But there are no good answers, and he simply doesn't know.

He has to stay with her now, while she is recovering. For the time being, he will continue to do his job, and hopefully his path will make itself clear when the time is right.

When the king returns, Regina is still recovering, exhausted, but the king insists on seeing her, and the stubborn woman refuses to stay in bed, to receive the king in her bedchamber, so she struggles out into the sitting room to meet wit him.

Robin insists on staying in the room while she meets with her husband, reminding her that she is still weak from her illness, and might yet need assistance moving about her rooms. She agrees readily, for which he is grateful, as he'd expected to have to argue with her about it, but he suspects she is secretly glad to have some moral support.

When the king arrives, Robin sees her mask fall into place, hiding all the pain she doesn't want him to see, doesn't want the world to see. In that moment, he realizes just how much she had let the mask down for him, let him in. He feels a surge of gratitude that he can do this for her, that she feels comfortable enough around him to let her guard down. The joy of having her trust, however, is accompanied by a pulse of anger at the king. He is not openly apathetic or disrespectful to Regina, but there is nothing behind his interactions with her, no care. He encourages her to put these walls up, makes no effort to draw her out, to get to know the beautiful, vibrant woman he is married to.

If it hadn't already been immediately obvious that the king didn't love her, this made it abundantly clear. He makes only a token inquiry after her health, and then turns the conversation on himself, discussing what he had seen in the past several months of travel. She deserves so much better, Robin thinks fiercely. She deserves someone who understands what an amazing woman she is, someone who will cherish her.

As they speak, the young princess attempts to climb into Regina's lap, despite the woman's obvious weariness. Incredible, that Snow insists on calling her 'mother' and treating her like one, when anyone with eyes can see that Regina was barely more than a child herself.

Regina reminds the girl that she is still ill, and she doesn't want Snow to catch it from her. Her voice is sweet as she speaks, but her face is expressionless, mask still in place.

This goes on for quite some time, Regina nodding absently as the king talks about his travels, with the princess chipping in excitedly from time to time.

Robin watches as Regina grows more and more exhausted. She is already weak from her illness, and the conversation is clearly taking a toll on her. And, the king, he doesn't notice at all. She is clearly running out of steam, and she glances at Robin as though hoping he will be able to help.

Robin is clueless as to a course of action, unwilling to interrupt the king. But she looks at him imploringly, and he has to try something. So, during a lull in the conversation, he addresses Regina. "Your majesty. I… apologize for interrupting, but I think you'll agree that it's about time to wrap this up? You're… still recovering, and the healer did prescribe lots of rest."

"Of course," the king says, rising. "How careless of me." And that is the perfect word to describe how he treats Regina, Robin thinks. Careless. As if her feelings were of no consequence, didn't matter at all. She deserves better, he thinks, for the hundredth time.

"I wish you a quick recovery, my dear," the king continues. Despite the endearment, his tone is formal and detached. He kisses her hand and departs, his daughter following him out of the room.

When the door shuts behind him, Regina's mask drops, and she closes her eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath.

"Are you alright?" Robin asks, concerned, putting a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Yes," she says after a moment. "Yes, I'm okay. Just… tired. Thanks. For…" she gestures in the direction of the door.

"No problem," he replies, leading her to her bedroom. "I could tell you needed a rescue."

"My knight in shining armor," she teases sleepily as she drifts off.

A/N: Poor Robin! He is so out of his depth right now. Confession: I really like unrequited love storylines. I just think it makes the love seem so pure. Fortunately for him, it's not unrequited, but it'll take some time for them both to figure it out.

Also, for the record, the illness that Regina has in this chapter is a figment of my imagination. The one from the last chapter was based on something I had, about a year and a half ago (not fun!), but this one is completely made up. So, yeah. Sorry if it seems a bit far fetched, but I've had this bit planned out since I started writing this story.

One more thing: I've gotten several reviews wondering about Rumple and how he'll react to this obstacle. My take on it is this: Rumple sees the future, but he sees what might be, not what will be. He manipulates the variables, tries to stack the deck in his favor, you see him doing that here, but there's still some element of chance. (That nothing is preordained is one of my fundamental beliefs that I use to interpret any and all fiction. I just don't like the idea of an inevitable fate.) So, yes, Rumple has an agenda, and I think we will probably see him one more time, but this story is about Regina and Robin, not about Rumple. This all happens a long time before Regina becomes evil, and I basically meant it to be about the good influence she didn't have in canon winning out over the evil. Ok, sorry, that got rambly.

Please leave a review! Let me know what you thought of my analysis of Robin's feelings, okay? Whatever you have to say will help immensely with the next chapter.