Warnings galore, this is depressing. Details of suicide, please don't read it if that bothers you! I will be posting more too, it's not a oneshot. Thanks if you do read! And feel free to review. And I'm sorry for Much having a hard time. I love him really.
Much had long since decided. He was no longer needed. 'We each have a purpose in life', he often thought of Robin saying. he had been well aware of his, ever since Robin's father had rescued him. His was to serve Robin, to protect him. All throughout their childhood he had done so, sticking up for Robin at all times, no matter what the stakes were, or the possible harm to himself. And he had stuck with this purpose in the Holy Land. he had been at Robin's side always, stayed with him when others thought him dead and lost. But things were different now. They were home, or at least as close to home as they would get any time soon. They were in Nottingham, in England. Robin had Marion now, she was in the forest with them eve. Djaw and WIll had eachother, and there was John to look after them all, the knowledgable, ever-caring fath figure. Much had lost his place. His purpose had been fulfilled. He had seen Robin safely into the arms of his wife and lover. he had no wife or lover, the hopes of Eve had long been quashed. What was left of the gang could easily manage without him. Now his torment only grew daily. The teasing, lightweight though its intention may be, struck home ever time. And the nightmares. No, he was not needed, and he doubted he would be long missed. The decision seemed so simple, and yet he had still worried over it for some time. According to his religion, he would go to hell for what he was about to do. But these thoughts were soon put aside by thoughts of the HOly Land. If a man could go to heaven for mindlessly slaughtering innocents, he did not wonder the justive of his own actions.
He looked back to the campsite; the others all slept soundly, the coupels together, and then John near his own bed. He smiled; he knew they would be fine without him, he need not fear for that. He turned back to face out intothe cold, dark forest. A quick sequence of thoughts flashed through his head; images of Holy Land horrors, of moment ssince then which he felt showed his worthlessness. His unfriendliness and jealousy towards Rob. And finally, his mind dsettled on a hill. Of Robin speaking to him on that hill. 'You never goaway.' The words echoed through his mind, the venom seeming to increase and sting ahrder every time. He silenced them, screwing his eyes shut, and swapped his dagger to his left hand. Despite being skilled with both, he felt more comfortable getting the left done with. he sighed, he would not be sad to leave. He raised his right arm, and with the blade in his left hand began cutting intricately along the bluish veins in his arms, from a few inches from his wrist, down to his hand. As gasp, of relief, escaped his as the blood began to flow thickly from the cuts. He swapped the blade over, and cut his left wrist. His head swam, and the warm fluid trickled steadily down his hands, and fell in drops on the floor. He sank to his knees, and as the darkness deepened, he fell to the floor. He felt no pain.