AN: Thanks so much for the reviews :) One more chapter to go!
Chapter 9
Four days later, Allan was still with them and was steadily growing stronger.
It had gotten to the point where Will and Djaq felt comfortable leaving the camp once more though they always made sure someone stayed behind to watch over Allan. The former outlaw knew this, but was still somewhat surprised to wake up from an afternoon nap to find the camp empty except for Much, who was, as usual, cooking.
Memories of Much's glare and accusatory tone made Allan wary of addressing him. They hadn't really had a chance to speak since Allan's unexpected return to the camp though he'd overheard plenty of Much's objections concerning it. They hadn't really spoken since Allan had left either.
Things had been better since Allan's fever had broken. For some reason that he didn't understand, his presence at the camp had gone from barely tolerated to accepted. Though he still seemed to spend most of his time sleeping, when he was awake, the outlaws had been almost, if he dared believe it, friendly. He'd even chatted with Will and Djaq like old times. Despite this, he continued to find it hard to meet anyone's eyes afraid of seeing the old anger and disgust still there.
All in all, Allan would rather go back to sleep and avoid dealing with Much, but unfortunately, he had a rather pressing matter that needed attending to. He pulled off the blankets and being careful not to jostle his injured leg, he sat up.
Hearing the movement, Much turned towards him. "Oh, you're awake."
"Yeah," replied Allan.
There was an awkward silence.
The silence would have continued longer, but Allan's bladder was sending him urgent messages. He sighed. "I could use a little help," he said pointing outside.
Blinking, Much stared blankly at him for a moment then sudden realization dawned. "Right." He wiped his hands on the cloth tucked into his belt and hurried over. Helping Allan to his feet, Much supported him as they headed out into the trees.
On the way back, Much went a bit too fast causing Allan to lose his balance. Trying to save himself from falling, Allan put too much weight on his bad leg. The pain threatened to bring him to his knees. Luckily, Much was able to catch him that time.
"Sorry," Much mumbled looking sheepish.
Bent over, Allan took a few deep breaths letting the pain die down before he straightened up once more. "In a bit of a hurry, are we?" he commented sardonically.
Much bristled. "I've got a pot on the fire."
"Yeah? Sorry, I took you away from your rat stew," said Allan as they continued on their way back into the camp.
"It's not rat," Much protested.
"Squirrel, then."
"It's rabbit."
"Looks pretty small for a rabbit," Allan declared as they entered the camp. He wrinkled his nose. "And what are we having it with? Cabbage?"
"Since when are you a culinary expert? Remember how long it took us to recover the last time you tried to cook?" questioned Much eyebrows raised.
"'S not my fault your stomach can't handle quality."
Much helped Allan sit down on his bunk. "Quality? You mean the fine way you burnt that food into ash?" Shaking his head, Much headed back to his cooking.
A small smile suddenly appeared on Allan's face. "I missed this."
Much frowned. "Missed what?"
"Arguing with you."
Frozen in the middle of stirring the stew, the former servant stared at him.
"I think I missed your cooking too." Allan laughed. "I must still be delirious."
"I…" Much's mouth opened and closed a few times. "I missed you too."
It was Allan's turn to be surprised; then a grin slowly spread across his face.
Reddening, Much looked away and returned to messing with his stew, pointlessly clattering about with the cooking implements. "Place hasn't been the same without you. It's been much quieter for one thing."
Allan's grin just grew larger.
The moment was broken by the arrival of Will and Djaq.
"Good. You're awake," said the young carpenter. "Here." He tossed over a wooden staff.
When Allan caught it, he realized the staff was in fact a well-crafted crutch. "Thanks," he told Will.
The outlaw just shrugged in response.
"You couldn't have brought that ten minutes ago?" Much complained half-heartedly.
The others ignored him.
"Go on," said Will. "Try it out."
Allan slowly pulled himself to his feet. With the crutch under his left arm, he tentatively put a little weight on his bad leg and took a step. Succeeding in that, he took another. The crutch was exactly the right height. He wasn't too surprised. Will had always had a good eye. Looking up, he found the others all watching him intently.
"What? Never seen a man walk before?"
They laughed, relief shinning in their eyes.
"It's just good to see you on your feet," explained Djaq.
Allan began hobbling rather unsteadily about the camp.
"Careful," cried Much as Allan bumped into some shelves knocking things over.
The former thief just smirked and kept going, stumbling about the small enclosure as he adjusted to using the crutch. The outlaws continued to watch with smiles on their faces. Soon, Allan was moving at a fair speed, his natural agility returning.
"I don't believe it."
Everyone turned to see Robin and Little John standing in the camp's entrance. Robin was shaking his head.
"It seems the dead have risen."
"The dead are dancing," joked Allan as he tried to twirl around.
Unfortunately, a sudden misstep with the crutch at a bad angle sent him reeling but John reached out with his strong arms and stopped him before he hit the ground.
"So maybe I'm not quite ready for dancing yet," Allan admitted.
John grinned down at him; then carefully set him upright once more. "You've never danced better," said the big man.
"Very funny."
"I think that's enough for now," announced Djaq placing a hand on Allan's back and guiding him back to his bunk. "You still need to take it easy."
Allan opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. He didn't want to press things too far still feeling uncertain about his place there and besides, he was actually feeling a bit tired already. The fever had taken so much out of him. It would still be awhile before he was back to full strength.
He sat back down on the bunk, propping the crutch beside it. He pulled his legs onto the bed, but stayed sitting up. Djaq threw the blankets over him and he smiled at her. Being stuck in bed was tiresome, but he couldn't deny that he did enjoy being fussed over by a beautiful woman.
Allan watched as the outlaws bustled about the camp, eating and doing chores, joking and chatting. They talked about the day's events, ranted about the Sherriff's latest evils, teased Much. Eventually, discussion turned to the next day and plans for another caper into the castle. Apparently the Sherriff had appropriated a large cash of jewels from some nobleman and now Robin intended to appropriate it himself for the poor.
Without thinking, Allan suddenly spoke up. "The jewels will probably be at the top of the Northeast tower. The Sherriff's been using it to keep his most precious possessions until he can get a new strong room built."
There was a sudden silence as all attention was suddenly centered on Allan.
Gisborne's former right-hand man swallowed.
Robin straightened up and gave him a levelled gaze. "You sure?"
Mouth suddenly dry, Allan just nodded.
"How many guards?"
"Shouldn't be more than three, one at the door and two inside. The Sherriff's been trying not to advertise the location."
After a pause, Robin nodded. "Alright. We'll head there as soon as we're inside."
As the others went back to their plans, Allan's stomach churned. He knew he should feel hope because Robin had believed him, but he'd felt the doubt and the hesitation as the outlaw leader weighed in on whether or not to trust him. And it had brought it all crashing back on him. He was still the outsider, still the traitor. As he'd joked around with his former friends earlier, it had actually started to feel like it used to be. For a moment, he had forgotten the betrayal and the rejection.
Allan almost wished he hadn't spoken up, but the urge to help had been too much. Now, he was reminded of the mistrust that would always be there. Who was he kidding; it was not surprising after what he had done. It was what he deserved.
Glancing at the crutch beside his bunk, Allan felt another horrible realization sink in. He was doing much better and since he could now get about by himself, the outlaws would soon be kicking him out. A cold despair washed over him. No longer hearing the other's voices, he lay down on the bed and pulled his blanket tightly around him. Just as he'd been beginning to feel at home once more, it was all about to be taken away from him again.
