Settle & Sink
Sections 5 through 8

(would not could not)

He was still flinching away from the blows, though his voice had given out already. Limp, disoriented, but cognicent enough to realize that the hot skin he felt slipping against his was not Will's- was his own, strangely fevered and disassociated. Bright-eyed and burning, he was glad that his voice had been ripped away, uncertain whether he would have been able to keep this secret for much longer. That was one thing Robin was wrong about- he had no choice now, would-not-could-not tell. The irony in the situation seemed funnier than maybe it should have.
"You have something that I need. Tell me, and I'll let you go. You'll never see me again. Tell me!" Shouted words at his ear. Distorted, angry.
Not bein' funny, but you must be getting desperate.

(heat)

When the cool hand rested on his forehead, he opened his eyes (when had they shut?) but couldn't focus. Dark eyes, red lips, pale skin. Sweet breath, the whisper of satin over his own shallow breathing. Footsteps, and the hand withdrew, leaving him in darkness and heat.

(legion)

Allan knew why he'd done it, of course. The gold had certainly factored in- he wasn't going to lie about that, not now. It was a scrap of life-before-Robin, one of the few that hadn't been abandoned in the dark loam of Sherwood. Everything he'd said at the Inn had been true, and all the worse for its honesty. Because he hadn't meant to hurt Robin, knew that he would hurt Will and Djaq and Locksley and Nottingham and England if just one word slipped past his lips- but they all did, one word forming many, forming legion, and that was it.

(the good)

That was the thing about Robin - if you spent enough time around him, you started to want to be as good as him, as whole-heartedly selfless and committed.
A year, and Allan had seen that Robin wasn't pure or invincible or great- had seen the small boy in a man's bones. Saw the self-recrimination and guilt and mistakes and fear that resided in him, and having seen, felt his own image fracture and splinter. Everything good in him had been Robin.
Allan knew why he'd done it, of course. He'd done it because of the noose.