That first morning, when Belle awoke to Rumple tossing in the bed beside her, with sweat drenching his brow, was the worst. She was still so new to this world, and never, even in the Dark Castle, had Belle seen Rumplestiltskin in so much pain.  Even when that man, Robin Hood, shot Rumple with one of his own arrows, Rumple had been more shocked than pained.

It was the searing heat that was burning her true love from the inside out that broke Belle’s own shock, and pushed her into action. She might not have known any of the cures in this new world, but Belle had spent years watching the healers at her father’s castle, treating the ogre’s victims.

Slipping out of the bed, she wrapped her beloved tightly in the bed clothes, and then ran across the room, opening the windows. Next, she ran to the kitchen, filling a large bowl with cold water and ice, and grabbing all the towels she could carry.

When she returned to their room, Rumple was just as she had left him, tightly wrapped and still tossing. Though, he did awake when Belle pulled one of the armchairs closer to the bed, placing the bowl and towels on the nightstand. 

“Hey,” She whispered, wiping his brow, “How’re you feeling?”

Rumple stared at her, his eyes wide and glazed, “Belle?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” She smiled, dipping the towel in the cold water, and wiping along his face and neck.

He gifted her with a small, blissful smile, his whole face relaxing in that moment, before the fever and the pain overtook, curling towards Belle and the relief she offered.