Denial II, chapter 13: Reborn and Shivering
Title: Denial II, chapter 13: Reborn and Shivering
Author: darkentwisted
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Djaq, Will, Tom, Marian, John, Robin, OC
Rating: PG-13 and a dash of slash
Genre: Drama
Words:
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: beta read by teamlavender ; takes place after 2x13 but prior to 3x01
Introduction and previous chapter links for DII are here...
Summary: As he struggles to recover from his injuries, Allan takes a look back.
>>>------------------>>
Reborn and Shivering
by darkentwisted
"There once was a lady faire, with ebony eyes and jet black hair. I wooed her 'til one sad day, my best mate stole her away." Allan's face turned bright red as another fit of coughing hit him.
Djaq was drawn at first to the singing then was alarmed as her patient was overtaken by his illness. "Allan!" She rushed to his side as he put down the lute and covered his mouth with a kerchief.
Allan waved her away. "It's alright. I just overdid it a little."
"That was you? That singing?" She paused as she examined him. "Allan, I never knew..."
"Neither did I." Allan blushed as he straightened his nightclothes. "Rahiim taught me to play one afternoon when I was bored."
"You play beautifully," Djaq said and smiled. "But you need to rest."
Allan smiled and placed his hand over Djaq's swollen belly. "How is he?"
"She is quite active," Djaq replied as she rubbed her back. "Although there are times I have my doubts. I am sure only a man can kick like that."
"Or you," Allan added. "No woman e'er fought like you did, Djaq." He wheezed softly and his head wobbled a bit.
Djaq's smile turned to a frown as she ran the back of her hand along Allan's face. "Allan you are burning up. How long...?"
Allan tried to smile but his face drooped suddenly. "I feel--" Another uncontrollable fit of coughing and wheezing made him spasm violently.
"Will!" Djaq cried as Allan's eyes rolled and he passed out.
Will rushed into the room and looked at Djaq in alarm fearing the worst, then at Allan. Allan scared him more. "What do I do?"
"We need water. We need to cool him off. He is burning with fever again."
"Is he going to..."
"No! Don't even think that," Djaq said. "Just bring water and pray."
Cobblestones. Suddenly, hot cobblestones were under his bare feet as he ran.Tom was only a few paces behind him shouting, "Run, Squeak! We're losing them!"Stolen fruit rolled down the inside of his ragged leggings and was crushed against the stones under his feet. Just in time, he ducked into a dirty alley with his brother behind him. Heavy footfalls echoed after them and then passed.
They erupted into laughter and then bit into what was left of the fruit as a toast to their victory.
Tom took a huge bite of apple, savouring the juice. "That was a close one, Squeak. They almost caught us."
"Nah. Not us. We were too fast for 'em, mate," Squeak replied. He looked at his friend as he ate hungrily of the ill-gotten fruit. Tom was like a brother to him, maybe he was his actual brother - neither knew for sure - but they cared for each other, looked after each other, and that's what brothers did. Squeak surprised Tom with a bold lick catching the juices as they dripped off his chin, then a cheeky kiss on the lips followed by a deeper one.
"Oi. Out 'ere in the open?" Tom laughed. "You cheeky bugger. You'll be dragged to the gallows yet."
Squeak smiled. "Not bein' funny, mate, but as I said - I'm too fast fer 'em. Come on - let's see wot the others're up to."
Allan turned fitfully in his sleep.
The night was cold...so cold. Tom stood there - his eyes glowing in the dark, his cheeks still wet with tears as they watched the bodies of their mates swing on the scaffold. "I don't want to die like that, Squeak," Tom whispered.
"I told them to be careful," Squeak said. He grasped Tom's shoulders. "This is what happens when you ain't careful. They robbed a nobleman and got caught. Snitch got greedy and see what 'appened?"
Tom sniffled and whispered, "They were our mates..."
"An' now they bring the law down on all of us who live on the streets." Squeak looked at his friend. "We have to leave. Not bein' funny, but we can't stay 'ere any longer."
"Where will we go?"
"Anywhere but 'ere." Squeak cuffed Tom by the neck. "We still got each other and that's all we need."
Another wave of coughing took the memory away. Blackness filled his vision then just as suddenly, sunlight and forest on the day his life changed forever.
Running. He was running again - this time woods surrounded him, sod squished under his feet. Once again, Tom was at his back but this time he was the assailant. "All we want is your purse, mate!"
The frightened man ahead of them was a blur as he tried to outrun his attackers. His ashen face peered over his shoulder from time to time. He gained distance until one last look back, then a sudden collision, and hard wood penetrated soft flesh.
Squeak was puzzled at first when his quarry stopped, then curiosity turned to horror. The limb extended out of the man's back in almost comic fashion. It was almost too much to bear. Squeak thought for sure the other man was dead but his eyes opened, making him jump back.
"Ahh, mate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Squeak blinked back tears.
"My wife...my children....must..."
"No, no, don't move."
The man struggled to breathe.
"Wot's your name?" It wasn't curoisity that prompted the question but a desire to take the poor man's mind off the unbelievable wound he suffered.
"A'dale...Allan A'Dale. I'm a minstrel....I was going home to see my wife...my girls." He looked down at the mortal wound and his face fell. "Ohhhh!"
"You're goin' to be alright. My mate...he's going to get help."
"Too late..." The minstrel smiled.
"I'm sorry..." Squeak said.
"Not...your fault," the minstrel coughed. "My time..."
"I was chasin' you!" Squeak fought tears.
"You were doing what you had to do to survive." The dying man smiled. "What's your name?"
Squeak wiped his nose on his ragged sleeve. "I ain't got a proper one. My mates, they call me Squeak."
"Why...do they call you...that?"
"'Cause no matter wot trouble I get in, I manage to squeak outta it....like a mouse."
The minstel sighed. "That explains it then. No wonder you do not act like a good man, my son. A good man needs a good name. Take mine."
The younger man blinked back tears, "I don't understand. How can you call me 'good'? I'm not a good man. I done killed ya."
"You didn't kill me, the tree did." The dying man let out a part laugh-part gurgle at his own irony. "And you are a good man but you don't know it yet. I can see it. But a good man needs a proper name...a good name." He struggled to stay conscious. "I have no son to carry my name, only daughters, so take mine. I won't be needing it anymore." He smiled as his life slipped away. "I wish we had met under better circumstances, you could have been the son I never had." He nodded solemnly. "Promise me if you take my name you'll do better for yourself."
Squeak nodded. "I'll try."
"Then it's yours... Allan A' Dale. Go...Tell the elders of the village I had a terrible accident. Help get my body home so my wife can mourn me properly. You have a good name now... live a better life."
Allan promised to do as he was told and watched helplessly as his new namesake breathed his last. Tom returned and gazed with surprise as his friend cradled the dead man's head in his lap and cried. "I aint ne'r killed anyone before, Tom."
"Squeak."
Allan looked up and shook his head. "That innit my name anymore, it's Allan, Allan A'Dale. He gave it to me. Made me promise to do better. I got to do better, Tom. I must do better."
His chest felt like lead. He couldn't get a deep breath. A damp cloth on his head eased his burden. Bitter drink to his lips took him down once more.
Running again, with no one to blame but himself. Tom? Where was Tom. He remembered the fight. They parted ways over a woman. Then ran into her angry husband. Another narrow escape and he was alone again. So hungry. One deer wouldn't hurt. The king wouldn't even notice it was missing. Sheriff's men. Too many of them. Then he showed up. But that look. Different this time. So angry. Clutching. Emerald eyes glaring. Silver coins falling. No! Not my tags! Please let me explain! He was alone again. Cold, hungry, nowhere to go but down. Begging the Devil himself for shelter. Black hair, pale skin, cold eyes, lips sneering in disgust. Dark castle, dark halls, only one bright spot to warm him. Marian! Oh, Marian... I'm sorry.
"I cannot help him," Djaq said as she looked from her shivering, unconscious patient to her worried husband. "He is going to die and I cannot help him."
His skin was on fire. He couldn't move. His chest burned and he tried desperately to gulp in air. The man stood before him, cruelly sipping from the water skin.
"Will," he tried to call from parched lips.
His friend stood before him shirtless. Fresh wounds of torture were emblazoned on Will's pale flesh. "Don't you utter my name traitor...blasphemer!"
"No...I..."
"You think I would let you live after what you did to me, did to her?"
His chest throbbed as he looked down, the hilt of the sword glinted in the unforgiving sunlight. He looked up and cold eyes glared back.
"You betrayed me," Guy leered. "You think I would let you live after that?"
Rough hands seized the blade.
"No...please...if you pull it out I'll die."
The same circle of friends watching him breathe his last but the sad looks were replaced with snears of contempt.
"You deserve to die, Allan A'Dale." Djaq's caramel-coloured eyes glittered with hate. "Or is it Squeak? You should die for stealing a good man's name."
John spat, "You carry a dead man's name, a man you killed. Now it's time for you to die, too."
"I dinnit steal it. 'e gave it to me. I didn't mean to kill 'im. Oh, God! I dinnit mean it. Please give me another chance," he cried as his life ebbed into the sand.
Then the vision was gone.
The room was dimly familiar. It had become his world since that day he stood up to evil. Noises wafted from outside and strangers fanned him as he swam in and out of consciousness. His eyes fluttered and it started again.
He strained to look at the shapeless mound in the corner. He jerked reflexively as it moved. Pale skin, colourless lips, and sunken eyes met his. He cried softly as the figure came closer. "No, Tom... oh please, no."
"Ah, lookit ya, Squeak. What they did ta ya." Tom's ghostly hands clutched at the covers.
Foul breath from the grave made Allan retch.
"Soon you'll be like me." Tom laughed. "Least you won't go swingin' from a castle wall."
He was instantly transported to that awful day in Nottingham. Tom's corpse swayed in the wind but this time there was no shroud over his face. Bulging eyes met his in an accusing stare of death. Tom's breath was at his ear again. "'E was right, you know - the Sheriff. I cried for you before they killed me but its alright now." Gaunt lips stretched like aged parchment over rotting teeth. "Soon you will be with me again, Squeak. Soon you'll be dead too."
"No Tom! I'm sorry I shoulda insisted...I shoulda saved you. Please, don't take me. Please!"
Allan turned from the nightmare and a cool breeze suddenly caught his fevered brow. Hands softer than a baby's carressed his hot cheek. He looked up into eyes of the deepest blue and the smile of an angel. A halo of light surrounded her as she caressed his brow. "There's my brave hero. No worries my friend, you're not dead yet." She patted his hand. "Still alive but only just. You can't let go now. You still have a job to do."
"Oh no, not you too, Maz." Allan squeezed his eyes shut. "That you would haunt me now too. I can't bear it!"
Marian's soft smile turned to a comical sneer. "Silly Squeak, how can I haunt you when I'm not dead!"
Allan opened his eyes again. "I 'eard them. Djaq, Will, they say you are. They saw Gis..."
"I know what everyone saw. You forget, I was there too!" Marian smoothed her robe and caught his stunned expression. She smiled warmly as she cupped his chin in her delicate hand. "But so were you. You saw. I'm not dead." His mind flashed back to that awful day. Sun glinted off her white robe as Guy threw her limp body over his horse. For one second her blue eyes fluttered open and met Allan's then closed again. The brief vision ended and they were back in the room. Marian frowned. "See. You remember. I'm not dead, Allan, but I surely will die if you don't come rescue me." Marian turned to leave, taking her light with her.
Allan panicked as he tried to raise up to follow his friend. "Where are you? I don't know how to find you!"
"You'll figure out a way, Squeak." Marian winked as her milk pale cheeks suddenly glowed with unladylike thoughts. "You are, as you say, good with nuns." She giggled as she turned toward the door and looked back. "Now be a good boy and do as Djaq and Will say. Get well and find me before it's too late."
She was gone. The darkened room gave way to a familiar smell from his past. Damp wood, the soft drops of rain pelted his skin. Warmth and cold at the same time. The exotic scent of wood and dampness and Will filled his nostrils. He felt familiar thin arms wrapped around his own wiry frame as pale green eyes fluttered open. Will smiled as his cheeks blushed. Allan's own cheeks warmed as he suddenly became aware of his own nakedness pressed against his friend's. Will whispered reverently, as if to not disturb the dead. "Don't leave me."
Allan smiled as Will nuzzled his bare shoulder and pressed his lips to the hollow of his collar bone. "A dream. It was all just a bad dream," he thought. No desert. No wound. No traitor. No death. I am here, in the woods with my friend, and we have just made love. He gently lifted Will's face to his and hungrily devoured his sex swollen lips once more. Allan smiled and thought again, "But if I were to die, God, please let me do it now while I am looking into his eyes." He frowned. "Why would you think I would leave you? We are best mates."
"Everyone leaves eventually," Will pouted. "My mom left us when she died. I left my dad and Lukey after I got myself outlawed. We left Robin and the gang..."
"Not bein' funny, but we are just lookin' after ourselves," Allan spat back. "And besides Robin left us!"
"Just hold on to me, Allan," Will replied as he got behind his lover and cradled him in his arms. Sudden, unbearable heat surrounded Allan. "I don't want to lose you again."
"Hoi! Wot's this all about?" Allan smiled. "I ain't goin' anywh..." Stabbing pain made him gasp. He looked down at the blood-encrusted bandage on his chest. Reality flooded back. "Oh Will! Oh no, Will! I'm really dyin', aren't I!"
"I've got you, Allan. You won't die. I won't let you leave me again."
The room returned around him in an instant. Will's stubbled chin rubbed against his cheek. The carpenter's soft voice pleaded in his ear as he held him. "Just hang on."
Even in sickness, Allan couldn't resist the opportunity for cheek. "How can I die when you keep whisperin' in my ear like that." He gazed up into the worried face of the man he once loved--still loved--with every fiber of his soul.
"Welcome back, my friend." Will smiled in relief, as he touched his lips to Allan's forehead then clinically proclaimed, "Looks like your fever has broken."
Allan licked his dry lips and croaked. "So you are a healer now too?"
Will slid out of bed, slipped on his leggings and dipped a cloth in fresh water. He blotted his friend's forehead. "With a troublemaker like you as a patient I have to learn fast. You are more than poor Djaq can handle alone." He smiled when Allan looked surprised at his state of undress. "Djaq's idea. You were shivering so much she suggested I get under the covers with you and share my warmth. I held you all night while you were out." Will ran his hand along Allan's stubbled cheek. "You were so delirious you tried to crawl out of bed in your sleep, you silly bugger. I had to hold on to you. It reminded me..."
"Of what?" Allan looked hopeful. The way Will spoke to him was like old times, almost like what took place in the dungeon never happened.
Will's cheeks reddened. "It just reminded me of that time on the North Road, the two of us sleeping in the rain, clinging to each other for warmth. That's all." He frowned and the closeness was gone again.
Allan hid his disappointment as the invisible wall came up between them once more. He changed the subject. "Any of that worth drinkin'?"
Will nodded and gently held a cup to his friend's parched lips.
Allan drank deeply and welcomed the coolness in his throat. He relaxed then frowned as remembered words came back to him. "We have to save her."
"Save who?"
Allan studied his friend carefully. "Marian...she's alive, Will."
The carpenter set the cup of water aside. "I wish that were so, Allan." He stood up and looked out the window at the villagers. He grimly shook his head. "You tried so hard to protect her. Gisborne was too powerful. He killed her when he struck her with his sword pummel, and then rode off with her body after he tried to kill you."
"No, you're wrong. I saw her move after he hit her! When I went to her..." Allan put his hand to his abdomen and winced. "Before Gis did this to me, I held her. She was still breathing. She moved. While I was lyin' there bleedin' I saw her eyes open as they rode off with her." He met his friend's skeptical look with one of wide-eyed determination. "Will, I'm not bein' funny. I think Maz is still alive and we have to go save her!"
More to come! Stay tuned!
Author: darkentwisted
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Djaq, Will, Tom, Marian, John, Robin, OC
Rating: PG-13 and a dash of slash
Genre: Drama
Words:
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: beta read by teamlavender ; takes place after 2x13 but prior to 3x01
Introduction and previous chapter links for DII are here...
Summary: As he struggles to recover from his injuries, Allan takes a look back.
>>>------------------>>
Reborn and Shivering
by darkentwisted
"There once was a lady faire, with ebony eyes and jet black hair. I wooed her 'til one sad day, my best mate stole her away." Allan's face turned bright red as another fit of coughing hit him.
Djaq was drawn at first to the singing then was alarmed as her patient was overtaken by his illness. "Allan!" She rushed to his side as he put down the lute and covered his mouth with a kerchief.
Allan waved her away. "It's alright. I just overdid it a little."
"That was you? That singing?" She paused as she examined him. "Allan, I never knew..."
"Neither did I." Allan blushed as he straightened his nightclothes. "Rahiim taught me to play one afternoon when I was bored."
"You play beautifully," Djaq said and smiled. "But you need to rest."
Allan smiled and placed his hand over Djaq's swollen belly. "How is he?"
"She is quite active," Djaq replied as she rubbed her back. "Although there are times I have my doubts. I am sure only a man can kick like that."
"Or you," Allan added. "No woman e'er fought like you did, Djaq." He wheezed softly and his head wobbled a bit.
Djaq's smile turned to a frown as she ran the back of her hand along Allan's face. "Allan you are burning up. How long...?"
Allan tried to smile but his face drooped suddenly. "I feel--" Another uncontrollable fit of coughing and wheezing made him spasm violently.
"Will!" Djaq cried as Allan's eyes rolled and he passed out.
Will rushed into the room and looked at Djaq in alarm fearing the worst, then at Allan. Allan scared him more. "What do I do?"
"We need water. We need to cool him off. He is burning with fever again."
"Is he going to..."
"No! Don't even think that," Djaq said. "Just bring water and pray."
Cobblestones. Suddenly, hot cobblestones were under his bare feet as he ran.Tom was only a few paces behind him shouting, "Run, Squeak! We're losing them!"Stolen fruit rolled down the inside of his ragged leggings and was crushed against the stones under his feet. Just in time, he ducked into a dirty alley with his brother behind him. Heavy footfalls echoed after them and then passed.
They erupted into laughter and then bit into what was left of the fruit as a toast to their victory.
Tom took a huge bite of apple, savouring the juice. "That was a close one, Squeak. They almost caught us."
"Nah. Not us. We were too fast for 'em, mate," Squeak replied. He looked at his friend as he ate hungrily of the ill-gotten fruit. Tom was like a brother to him, maybe he was his actual brother - neither knew for sure - but they cared for each other, looked after each other, and that's what brothers did. Squeak surprised Tom with a bold lick catching the juices as they dripped off his chin, then a cheeky kiss on the lips followed by a deeper one.
"Oi. Out 'ere in the open?" Tom laughed. "You cheeky bugger. You'll be dragged to the gallows yet."
Squeak smiled. "Not bein' funny, mate, but as I said - I'm too fast fer 'em. Come on - let's see wot the others're up to."
Allan turned fitfully in his sleep.
The night was cold...so cold. Tom stood there - his eyes glowing in the dark, his cheeks still wet with tears as they watched the bodies of their mates swing on the scaffold. "I don't want to die like that, Squeak," Tom whispered.
"I told them to be careful," Squeak said. He grasped Tom's shoulders. "This is what happens when you ain't careful. They robbed a nobleman and got caught. Snitch got greedy and see what 'appened?"
Tom sniffled and whispered, "They were our mates..."
"An' now they bring the law down on all of us who live on the streets." Squeak looked at his friend. "We have to leave. Not bein' funny, but we can't stay 'ere any longer."
"Where will we go?"
"Anywhere but 'ere." Squeak cuffed Tom by the neck. "We still got each other and that's all we need."
Another wave of coughing took the memory away. Blackness filled his vision then just as suddenly, sunlight and forest on the day his life changed forever.
Running. He was running again - this time woods surrounded him, sod squished under his feet. Once again, Tom was at his back but this time he was the assailant. "All we want is your purse, mate!"
The frightened man ahead of them was a blur as he tried to outrun his attackers. His ashen face peered over his shoulder from time to time. He gained distance until one last look back, then a sudden collision, and hard wood penetrated soft flesh.
Squeak was puzzled at first when his quarry stopped, then curiosity turned to horror. The limb extended out of the man's back in almost comic fashion. It was almost too much to bear. Squeak thought for sure the other man was dead but his eyes opened, making him jump back.
"Ahh, mate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Squeak blinked back tears.
"My wife...my children....must..."
"No, no, don't move."
The man struggled to breathe.
"Wot's your name?" It wasn't curoisity that prompted the question but a desire to take the poor man's mind off the unbelievable wound he suffered.
"A'dale...Allan A'Dale. I'm a minstrel....I was going home to see my wife...my girls." He looked down at the mortal wound and his face fell. "Ohhhh!"
"You're goin' to be alright. My mate...he's going to get help."
"Too late..." The minstrel smiled.
"I'm sorry..." Squeak said.
"Not...your fault," the minstrel coughed. "My time..."
"I was chasin' you!" Squeak fought tears.
"You were doing what you had to do to survive." The dying man smiled. "What's your name?"
Squeak wiped his nose on his ragged sleeve. "I ain't got a proper one. My mates, they call me Squeak."
"Why...do they call you...that?"
"'Cause no matter wot trouble I get in, I manage to squeak outta it....like a mouse."
The minstel sighed. "That explains it then. No wonder you do not act like a good man, my son. A good man needs a good name. Take mine."
The younger man blinked back tears, "I don't understand. How can you call me 'good'? I'm not a good man. I done killed ya."
"You didn't kill me, the tree did." The dying man let out a part laugh-part gurgle at his own irony. "And you are a good man but you don't know it yet. I can see it. But a good man needs a proper name...a good name." He struggled to stay conscious. "I have no son to carry my name, only daughters, so take mine. I won't be needing it anymore." He smiled as his life slipped away. "I wish we had met under better circumstances, you could have been the son I never had." He nodded solemnly. "Promise me if you take my name you'll do better for yourself."
Squeak nodded. "I'll try."
"Then it's yours... Allan A' Dale. Go...Tell the elders of the village I had a terrible accident. Help get my body home so my wife can mourn me properly. You have a good name now... live a better life."
Allan promised to do as he was told and watched helplessly as his new namesake breathed his last. Tom returned and gazed with surprise as his friend cradled the dead man's head in his lap and cried. "I aint ne'r killed anyone before, Tom."
"Squeak."
Allan looked up and shook his head. "That innit my name anymore, it's Allan, Allan A'Dale. He gave it to me. Made me promise to do better. I got to do better, Tom. I must do better."
His chest felt like lead. He couldn't get a deep breath. A damp cloth on his head eased his burden. Bitter drink to his lips took him down once more.
Running again, with no one to blame but himself. Tom? Where was Tom. He remembered the fight. They parted ways over a woman. Then ran into her angry husband. Another narrow escape and he was alone again. So hungry. One deer wouldn't hurt. The king wouldn't even notice it was missing. Sheriff's men. Too many of them. Then he showed up. But that look. Different this time. So angry. Clutching. Emerald eyes glaring. Silver coins falling. No! Not my tags! Please let me explain! He was alone again. Cold, hungry, nowhere to go but down. Begging the Devil himself for shelter. Black hair, pale skin, cold eyes, lips sneering in disgust. Dark castle, dark halls, only one bright spot to warm him. Marian! Oh, Marian... I'm sorry.
"I cannot help him," Djaq said as she looked from her shivering, unconscious patient to her worried husband. "He is going to die and I cannot help him."
His skin was on fire. He couldn't move. His chest burned and he tried desperately to gulp in air. The man stood before him, cruelly sipping from the water skin.
"Will," he tried to call from parched lips.
His friend stood before him shirtless. Fresh wounds of torture were emblazoned on Will's pale flesh. "Don't you utter my name traitor...blasphemer!"
"No...I..."
"You think I would let you live after what you did to me, did to her?"
His chest throbbed as he looked down, the hilt of the sword glinted in the unforgiving sunlight. He looked up and cold eyes glared back.
"You betrayed me," Guy leered. "You think I would let you live after that?"
Rough hands seized the blade.
"No...please...if you pull it out I'll die."
The same circle of friends watching him breathe his last but the sad looks were replaced with snears of contempt.
"You deserve to die, Allan A'Dale." Djaq's caramel-coloured eyes glittered with hate. "Or is it Squeak? You should die for stealing a good man's name."
John spat, "You carry a dead man's name, a man you killed. Now it's time for you to die, too."
"I dinnit steal it. 'e gave it to me. I didn't mean to kill 'im. Oh, God! I dinnit mean it. Please give me another chance," he cried as his life ebbed into the sand.
Then the vision was gone.
The room was dimly familiar. It had become his world since that day he stood up to evil. Noises wafted from outside and strangers fanned him as he swam in and out of consciousness. His eyes fluttered and it started again.
He strained to look at the shapeless mound in the corner. He jerked reflexively as it moved. Pale skin, colourless lips, and sunken eyes met his. He cried softly as the figure came closer. "No, Tom... oh please, no."
"Ah, lookit ya, Squeak. What they did ta ya." Tom's ghostly hands clutched at the covers.
Foul breath from the grave made Allan retch.
"Soon you'll be like me." Tom laughed. "Least you won't go swingin' from a castle wall."
He was instantly transported to that awful day in Nottingham. Tom's corpse swayed in the wind but this time there was no shroud over his face. Bulging eyes met his in an accusing stare of death. Tom's breath was at his ear again. "'E was right, you know - the Sheriff. I cried for you before they killed me but its alright now." Gaunt lips stretched like aged parchment over rotting teeth. "Soon you will be with me again, Squeak. Soon you'll be dead too."
"No Tom! I'm sorry I shoulda insisted...I shoulda saved you. Please, don't take me. Please!"
Allan turned from the nightmare and a cool breeze suddenly caught his fevered brow. Hands softer than a baby's carressed his hot cheek. He looked up into eyes of the deepest blue and the smile of an angel. A halo of light surrounded her as she caressed his brow. "There's my brave hero. No worries my friend, you're not dead yet." She patted his hand. "Still alive but only just. You can't let go now. You still have a job to do."
"Oh no, not you too, Maz." Allan squeezed his eyes shut. "That you would haunt me now too. I can't bear it!"
Marian's soft smile turned to a comical sneer. "Silly Squeak, how can I haunt you when I'm not dead!"
Allan opened his eyes again. "I 'eard them. Djaq, Will, they say you are. They saw Gis..."
"I know what everyone saw. You forget, I was there too!" Marian smoothed her robe and caught his stunned expression. She smiled warmly as she cupped his chin in her delicate hand. "But so were you. You saw. I'm not dead." His mind flashed back to that awful day. Sun glinted off her white robe as Guy threw her limp body over his horse. For one second her blue eyes fluttered open and met Allan's then closed again. The brief vision ended and they were back in the room. Marian frowned. "See. You remember. I'm not dead, Allan, but I surely will die if you don't come rescue me." Marian turned to leave, taking her light with her.
Allan panicked as he tried to raise up to follow his friend. "Where are you? I don't know how to find you!"
"You'll figure out a way, Squeak." Marian winked as her milk pale cheeks suddenly glowed with unladylike thoughts. "You are, as you say, good with nuns." She giggled as she turned toward the door and looked back. "Now be a good boy and do as Djaq and Will say. Get well and find me before it's too late."
She was gone. The darkened room gave way to a familiar smell from his past. Damp wood, the soft drops of rain pelted his skin. Warmth and cold at the same time. The exotic scent of wood and dampness and Will filled his nostrils. He felt familiar thin arms wrapped around his own wiry frame as pale green eyes fluttered open. Will smiled as his cheeks blushed. Allan's own cheeks warmed as he suddenly became aware of his own nakedness pressed against his friend's. Will whispered reverently, as if to not disturb the dead. "Don't leave me."
Allan smiled as Will nuzzled his bare shoulder and pressed his lips to the hollow of his collar bone. "A dream. It was all just a bad dream," he thought. No desert. No wound. No traitor. No death. I am here, in the woods with my friend, and we have just made love. He gently lifted Will's face to his and hungrily devoured his sex swollen lips once more. Allan smiled and thought again, "But if I were to die, God, please let me do it now while I am looking into his eyes." He frowned. "Why would you think I would leave you? We are best mates."
"Everyone leaves eventually," Will pouted. "My mom left us when she died. I left my dad and Lukey after I got myself outlawed. We left Robin and the gang..."
"Not bein' funny, but we are just lookin' after ourselves," Allan spat back. "And besides Robin left us!"
"Just hold on to me, Allan," Will replied as he got behind his lover and cradled him in his arms. Sudden, unbearable heat surrounded Allan. "I don't want to lose you again."
"Hoi! Wot's this all about?" Allan smiled. "I ain't goin' anywh..." Stabbing pain made him gasp. He looked down at the blood-encrusted bandage on his chest. Reality flooded back. "Oh Will! Oh no, Will! I'm really dyin', aren't I!"
"I've got you, Allan. You won't die. I won't let you leave me again."
The room returned around him in an instant. Will's stubbled chin rubbed against his cheek. The carpenter's soft voice pleaded in his ear as he held him. "Just hang on."
Even in sickness, Allan couldn't resist the opportunity for cheek. "How can I die when you keep whisperin' in my ear like that." He gazed up into the worried face of the man he once loved--still loved--with every fiber of his soul.
"Welcome back, my friend." Will smiled in relief, as he touched his lips to Allan's forehead then clinically proclaimed, "Looks like your fever has broken."
Allan licked his dry lips and croaked. "So you are a healer now too?"
Will slid out of bed, slipped on his leggings and dipped a cloth in fresh water. He blotted his friend's forehead. "With a troublemaker like you as a patient I have to learn fast. You are more than poor Djaq can handle alone." He smiled when Allan looked surprised at his state of undress. "Djaq's idea. You were shivering so much she suggested I get under the covers with you and share my warmth. I held you all night while you were out." Will ran his hand along Allan's stubbled cheek. "You were so delirious you tried to crawl out of bed in your sleep, you silly bugger. I had to hold on to you. It reminded me..."
"Of what?" Allan looked hopeful. The way Will spoke to him was like old times, almost like what took place in the dungeon never happened.
Will's cheeks reddened. "It just reminded me of that time on the North Road, the two of us sleeping in the rain, clinging to each other for warmth. That's all." He frowned and the closeness was gone again.
Allan hid his disappointment as the invisible wall came up between them once more. He changed the subject. "Any of that worth drinkin'?"
Will nodded and gently held a cup to his friend's parched lips.
Allan drank deeply and welcomed the coolness in his throat. He relaxed then frowned as remembered words came back to him. "We have to save her."
"Save who?"
Allan studied his friend carefully. "Marian...she's alive, Will."
The carpenter set the cup of water aside. "I wish that were so, Allan." He stood up and looked out the window at the villagers. He grimly shook his head. "You tried so hard to protect her. Gisborne was too powerful. He killed her when he struck her with his sword pummel, and then rode off with her body after he tried to kill you."
"No, you're wrong. I saw her move after he hit her! When I went to her..." Allan put his hand to his abdomen and winced. "Before Gis did this to me, I held her. She was still breathing. She moved. While I was lyin' there bleedin' I saw her eyes open as they rode off with her." He met his friend's skeptical look with one of wide-eyed determination. "Will, I'm not bein' funny. I think Maz is still alive and we have to go save her!"
More to come! Stay tuned!