Title: To Live Another Day
Author: Kate's Master, aka Emma
Summery: Obligatory response to the end of series two. Will be followed by some form of angsty oneshot, no doubt. Ten ways she lived. Many crossovers, verrry odd. Read at your peril. Spoilers galore.

Disclaimer: Six months on, and they still won't give me a say in bringing Marian et al back. So I can safely say most definitely not mine.

Authors Notes: Hahaha, so much for a return to regular updates. Exams and all that jazz, I'm afraid. But I'm back, and finishing – mainly because there are few things I hate quite as much as an unfinished story, so it would be awfully hypocritical of me not to. And I'm quite enjoying myself, too. One we go again!


Ten Ways That She Lives

7. The blade she was stabbed with was covered in a special potion that works as a healing thingy, slowly restoring her body. She's just currently in a coma. Again.


"You ready?" asked Much quietly, staring at the back of his friends head. Robin was standing at the edge of the English camp, gazing at nothing across the empty desert.

He laughed hollowly. "No."

"Oh." Much struggled silently for a moment. "Well, you need to come."

Oddly, Robin smiled at that. So many times such a comment would have annoyed him, irritated him, and yet in the darkness he was currently hiding in, such normality was fondly familiar.

Perhaps it was due to the slight daze his friend had thrown him into that Robin didn't fight back as Much took him by the arm and began to guide him towards one of the tents in the centre of camp.

They were nearly there when Much stopped suddenly, causing Robin to walk straight into the back of him.

"Wha…"

"Something's happened." muttered Much, displaying unusual levels of observation.

Robin blinked, and looked about. There were several stable boys hurrying about, ducking in and out of the tent they were in front of, muttering amongst themselves, and to one side Allen, Will and Little John stood looking caught between confusion and worry.

"What's happened?" asked Robin, business as usual the moment anything appeared to keep his mind off what he was going to have to acknowledge sometime in the future. Far in the future, if he had it his way. "The king? Is he alright?"

"The King's fine…" said Will slowly.

"It's Marian." finished Allen, blunt as ever.

"But she's dead!" exclaimed Much, wincing as Robin stiffened beside him.

Little John coughed, and Robin moved so quickly that a blink would mean you missed it. Never mind that Little John was twice the size of him, never mind the huge man could lift boulders, never mind the fact that simple physics meant Robin should not have been able to grab Little John by the front of his jacket and force his whole body to bend so they were face to face…it still happened.

"What. Has. Happened." he demanded through gritted teeth, his mouth an inch from John's face.

A hand was laid on his arm, gently pulling him away from the giant.

"Come with me, Robin." said Djaq softly, and she pulled him inside the tent.

Marian lay on a raised pallet, uncovered, the wound in her stomach open to the air thanks to a large panel that had been cut out the front of her dress.

Robin looked blankly around.

"What's going on? What's happened?"

The confrontation with Little John seemed to have taken away his energy – the fire was gone, and all that remained was a sort of bleak lost look that reminded Djaq of a small child.

"Marian isn't dead, Robin."

Robin stared.

"It seems…I'm not totally sure, and I'll need to examine the blade to be certain…but remember last time Gisborne stabbed her? The poison worked its way through her body, slowly killing her?"

Robin nodded mutely.

"Well, it seems…somehow, and I've never seen anything like it before…this time the opposite has happened. The wound is healing, from the inside out. Amazingly fast, too…you can already begin to see it. I'm going to close up the wound, of course, and…"

Djaq let her voice trail off. Tears were sliding down Robin's face, leaving tracks in the fine layer of sand.

He didn't move for three days – sat by his unconscious wife while Djaq and one of the English surgeons repaired the gaping hole in her belly, sat by her all through the night that followed, and the day after, and the day after. He was still there when she woke, and with her smile as her eyes focused on his face, the future suddenly stopped looking like such a bleak place to be.


Ok, so I'm fairly certain such a drug does not exist, and we're glossing over exactly why Gisborne would have it on his sword…hey, we're delving into the deeps reaches of hope and prayer now, guys. Leave a review, if you feel so moved, and I promise it won't be quite so long between updates this time!