"I am the Dark One! Ruler of, erm, my possessions, master of trickery and spells and holder of all powerful magic!" Belle rolled her eyes as she placed the damp rag across his forehead and pulled the sheets up to his chest. "I do not 'catch a cold!'"
"Sorry, Rumple," Belle said, trying not to sound as amused as she felt. She shrugged, "Even magic has no cure for this. You're just going to have to wait it out."
He groaned and then whined like a child, thrashing around his sheets. Belle sighed tiredly.
"Oh good grief."
He jerked his head back and snarled.
"You did this to me, didn't you! You slipped something in the feed, no, the tea! And now that I'm at my weakest, you'll take your chance and- ah-ahhh-chooo!" He cut off his own ridiculous rant with a monstrous sneeze. She replaced the rag after passing it across his face and then wiped his nose gently with a handkerchief.
"No, Rumple," she told him. "It's just that time of year. Now, the only way to get over it is rest, so go to sleep."
"Wench." He mumbled when she stood to go. She scowled at him, but he shut his eyes, pretending to sleep.
"Honestly. Worse than a child."
She shut the door halfway through his mimic of her. The next few days were a new level of torture for Belle. And she thought Rumple was bad in full health! He'd quickly acted upon the role of helpless patient, making her fetch him anything and everything, spoon feed him stew and even massage his shoulders. He truly was despicable.
On the fifth day, as she opened his door and approached the bed, she found him not visible, hiding underneath his sheets. She poked the lump.
"Rumple? Lunchtime."
"Can't you see I am trying to go peacefully?" Came his muffled response, voice croaky. She frowned.
"Sorry, what?"
He flipped up the sheet and poked his head out.
"I'm dying, dearie, do try to keep up!" He spat then disappeared again. Belle again rolled her eyes.
"How dramatic."
With some effort she got him to lie back down normally and right the sheets once more. She wiped his sweaty face and helped him change into a clean shirt. He leaned closer after she puled the new one over him.
"And, ehm, the trousers?"
She scoffed and shoved him back to the pillows.
"What a way to treat the afflicted! How cruel, how abusive!"
"Go back to sleep, Rumple. This is the final stretch, you'll be good as new in the morning."
He sighed and settled down, hands joined across his chest. He squinted one eye open.
"Promise?"
She looked at him and leaned, giving his cheek a quick kiss. She sat back up and enjoyed the slight startled look on his face.
"Yes, I promise. Now sleep."
The next day, he burst through the door, healthy as a horse. To celebrate, he only made her clean half the gigantic castle. One thing she could say about living with Rumpelstiltskin, there was never a dull moment.