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He woke in darkness and struggled till he felt the bed underneath him and caught the scent of one of Tuck’s ointments. The moon was shining in through the small window of the cottage and faces were hard to make out but Will knew he wasn’t alone. As he shifts, pain shoots through his back and he bites his lip and there’s a hand in his hair,
“Shh, my Will, ye’re safe.”
He never expected to hear his mother’s voice again and through gritted teeth whispers,
“Forgive me.”
“None of that, Will.”
Robin’s voice seems to fill the space though faces are still shrouded in shadow for they would not wake him for the world.
Tuck tsks at his mother and Robin as he reaches forward, his calloused hands on Will’s forehead,
“Fever’s broken, think you could get some food down?”
He manages a weak nod and even tries to sit up but that hurts too much, as soon as he moves Tuck’s sure hands help him. Soon he sits, suddenly aware of all those who have been waiting and watching over him. The pain in his heart equals that in his back, he never meant to cause such harm. As if reading his thoughts, Tuck who has seen the world but came home to Sherwood puts a warm bowl of broth under his nose,
“Eat and no worryin’, my lad, just glad to ‘ave you whole and ‘ere.”
The broth is rich and dark, as he sips carefully, Will finds a hunger inside, days seem to have been lost in pain and his body cries out to get better. Tuck just watches with a careful smile, offering bread and wine, warm and richly spiced, Will’s eyes open wide at the flavor,
“Not one word, you’ll be drinkin’ that and na askin’ where it came from.”
In the shadows, his parents watch their only son, his back all but covered with linen that is already soaked through with blood.
John is there but outside, waiting for Will to wake was too much, Robin sent him out when he looked to punch a wall. Now that Will has waked, Tuck brings John in again as Will finishes wiping clean the bowl and gives a smile that barely reaches his eyes. The worry and pain he sees around him weighs heavy. John’s laugh is almost too loud in the small space as he ruffles Will’s red hair,
“Now ye’re to heal up right quick so ye can fell me in sparrin’.”
This time Will’s smile goes to his eyes, he won’t speak of the pain or what he sees here just yet,
“Aye, will ‘eal up quick, promise.”
Perhaps Robin sees more than the others as he steps forward, his voice clear and true as the trees move outside,
“Glad you’re my man, Will Scarlett, now we’ll leave you to Tuck’s hands. For you are strong and true.”
In time he sleeps again, waking for food and to change his bandages. Tuck hovers over, wishing he knew how to help Will speak for the pain is written so deep in his green eyes that Tuck has to look away for fear of breaking.
Will is young and strong so recovers, through Fall and Winter he rests and soon open wounds become new scars though ever restless, he rubs his wrists. Pain and guilt seem ever just behind his green eyes no matter how the men speak and show him he is safe and did nothing wrong. Robin does more with simple things, making clear that Will is his man no matter what. A new friendship has grown as strong as the old hatred was before. Tales have begun to spread beyond Sherwood’s Green of Little John and Will Scarlett, Robin Hood’s lieutenants who would face death down for him and fell all men before them.