Denial II, chapter 12: In Good Times and Bad (original) (raw)

Title: Denial II, chapter 12: In Good Times and Bad
Author: robinfanatic
Characters/Pairings: Much/Carter, Brooks, Robin
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, Angst
Words: 1914
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender. Takes place after AU 2x13 but prior to 3x01
Summary: The gang's journey toward Marseilles continues. Much remains very worried about Robin.
Introduction and previous chapter links for DII are here...

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Chapter 12: In Good Times and Bad

Candlelight flickered on the late evening breeze that swept the ward room. The captain had been kind enough - and paid generously - to allow the knights to dine there away from the boisterousness of the ship's crew. Perhaps that had been a mistake. The gang could use the distraction after Marian's death and Allan's near mortal injury. The room was deserted now except for one lone figure sitting in the corner. Carter nursed his ale, stared into the goblet, and wondered why he felt adrift. It was an odd feeling for him, especially with this new mission at hand. He managed a little smile. It was Much's first charge as a knight. Much...

His lover huffed into the room and broke his reverie. Much practically threw a plateful of food from his hands onto the table. Carter finished off his drink and placed the goblet down.

"He won't eat." Much paced back and forth. "He is going to starve to death, Carter."

"He will eat when he's ready."

Much ran his hands through his hair then clenched his fists. "All he does is sleep and brood."

"You can't blame him, love."

"I know, I know..." Much stopped and stared out the porthole. "I'm just worried about him."

Carter tapped the bench ignoring the little voice in his head mumbling Robin this, Robin that. "Come sit. Did you eat anything this evening?"

"I...I don't remember."

"You see how easy it is to forget things like eating when you're upset." He tapped the seat again and Much finally turned around. "You must eat."

Much made no move. Carter cocked his head. "You need your strength."

"For what?" he asked, noticing the

concern in Carter's blue eyes. "All we shall do for the next few weeks is sit on this boat." He plopped down on the bench. "Ah...I know...strength is needed to survive those late night card games."

Carter pulled the plate over in front of him. "Eat."

Much stared at the food. "I followed him to the war. I nursed him back to health when he nearly died. How can I just stand by and watch him fall into the depths of hell, to let him vow revenge for his wife's death?" Much shook his head, his eyes moist. "How can I, Carter?"

"You can't do anything more for him, Much. I hate to see you tearing yourself apart over this. I know you care for Robin. I know how badly you feel for his loss. But Robin is the only one who can raise himself past Marian's death and above his hatred for Vaizey and Gisborne. I know...I have been there. I could have lost everything that means anything to me. And I might never have found you." Carter placed his hand over Much's and when Much did not look up, Carter tipped his chin up. "All you can do is be his friend."

Carter brushed Much's cheek with a gentle kiss. "Now, please. You eat. Don't make me get Brooks down here to force feed you."

Much nodded, then picked up a chunk of bread. "It's good to see Charles again, isn't it?"

"Did someone say force feed?" Brooks stuck his head into the room, his eyes sparkling with a devious glint. He moved smoothly across the floor and threw a wink at Much.

Much had sworn that the yeoman had nine lives. Brooks had befriended Much and Carter in a pub in Cyprus nearly a year earlier. He'd returned to his seafaring ways for a while and then appeared in an enemy-held village outside of Acre where he sacrificed his own safety to help the two men escape. It wasn't until Robin delivered Much's old cap to him at the king's camp - a cap that Brooks had pilfered from Much during that rescue attempt - that they realized Brooks had survived. It had been as joyous a reunion as possible in Cyprus again when they discovered Brooks was serving on the ship that would take them to Marseilles.

"Much and I were talking about putting Robin in your care."

"He isn't starving, Much." Brooks moved behind the new knight and started to rub his shoulders. "I've seen him on deck late at night with a hunk of bread or a piece of meat. Besides, I can think of others I'd rather force feed," he said, his hands mischievously tickling Much's cheek. "Whatya' say, blue eyes? You up for a game of As Nas? Or let me tell ya' about this new one I learned in Cyp--"

"Just stop it the two of you," Much cried, jerking away from Brooks. "Robin is still eating very little and we have to help him. Be understanding."

Brooks smirked. "I'll give him some understanding."

Much stood abruptly, nearly knocking Brooks to the ground. His plate flew off the table. "I'm serious. He is hurting and you are just making jokes. We are his friends. He needs us now. Marian is gone. Forever. How would you feel if that was me, Carter?" Much stared at the food on the floor. "Sorry about the mess."

Much shot out the door and Carter couldn't help the deep sigh that escaped his lips.

"I heard that," Brooks said.

"Heard what?"

Brooks stepped around the mess on the floor and sat down across the table from Carter. He grabbed the pitcher of ale and poured them both a drink. "That exasperated sound that came from your throat."

"It's been nearly two weeks, Charles." Carter downed half of his ale in one long swallow. "Every other word he speaks is about Robin. Every other thought he has is for Robin."

"He loves you. Don't forget that."

Carter fingered the gold band Much had given him after Will and Djaq's wedding. "He is trying my patience."

Brooks leaned forward on the table. "A wise man once said that patience abused leads to fury. I cannot see that with you, my friend, no matter how much your ears burn with Robin's name. Though I will admit I don't understand why you don't tell him."

"Much cares for Robin. I have always encouraged him to talk to me...about everything. I don't want him to bottle his feelings up. He had to do that far too long with Robin. What would that say of me?"

"That you want him to talk of you instead of Robin?" Brooks studied Carter's face. "How's the eye?"

"You heard?" Carter asked, his fingers skimming bruised skin.

"I heard I missed a fabulous wedding and Much's knighting ceremony. That must have been one, er two, beautiful sights." Brooks tapped his fist to his heart, then lifted his mug in toast. "To Will and Djaq - bless their union - that carpenter is one lucky man. And to Sir Much, knight of the realm, whose eyes send shivers up my spine, and whose body... Nevermind."

Carter chuckled, raised his goblet, and downed the rest of his ale.

"And, yes, Legrand told me that you and the man had a bit of a tussle over Much."

Carter rubbed his jaw. The tenderness was just about gone and the bruising around his eye had faded.

"Must be nice to have two good-looking men fight over you." Brooks sighed and took a swig of his drink. "Maybe I was wrong about that fury."

"We'd both had a bit too much to drink. That's all. I don't go for fury. I practice calculated revenge."

"Then Robin should watch out."

"He has nothing to worry about. I won't hurt Much like that."

"What did you just say about bottling feelings up? Goes two ways, ya' know?" Brooks slugged down his ale, stood up, then stretched. He sauntered toward the door, turning back with a few thoughts for Carter to mull over. "Marseilles, Poitiers...they are weeks away, Sir Carter. Did you notice that reddish sky this morning? Stormy seas ahead but the clouds are just beginning to roll in and there are still a million diamonds hanging in the heavens." He wiped a hand dramatically across his brow. "I'm not feeling very well. Could I talk you into taking my watch in the crow's nest tonight?"

Carter looked up at Brooks, whose eyes twinkled mischievously. His heart beat a bit faster when he remembered having his arms around Much high above the deck of ship. "My pleasure," he said.

"Yes," Brooks replied, waving his hand with a flourish as he practically skipped away and called, "I bet it will be..."

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Much lay awake for a long time. He continued to fret about Robin, but his thoughts turned to Carter as the hours passed and there was no sign of him in the bunk next to his. Had to be Brooks' doing, some late night card game.

Much finally sat up, pulled on his boots, and headed for the ward room only to find it deserted.

Clouds obscured the moon but the sky was still brilliant with stars as Much hurried up to the deck. He walked to the railing and looked from stem to stern. The boat sailed smoothly along gentle waves, her sails fluttering in the breeze.

Much sighed. The coxswain and one other crew member were on duty but there was no sign of Carter. Where could he--

"Much! Up here!"

Much grinned and shook his head. He ran to the rigging and started to climb, soaring to the top like there were wings on his feet. Carter's hands slid through his hair when his head slipped above the edge of the crow's nest. He pulled Much closer 'til their lips connected. His mouth was warm, his kiss full of need. Much moaned, his lips parting to let Carter's tongue explore.

Robin appeared from below deck, wandering toward the ship's rail. He heard the low moans on the wind and looked about. His gaze settled on the tallest mast and he stood mesmerized by the two figures caught in a passionate embrace.

Robin's stomach knotted as Carter's hands swept down Much's back and under his tunic. He watched Much climb into the crow's nest then looked away as footsteps approached him, padding lightly across the deck.

"I noticed you were empty-handed this evening. Much didn't leave a plate for you, eh?" Brooks said, offering a chunk of pork to Robin.

Robin took the meat gratefully, bit into it, then turned to stare out over the dark water. "Thank you."

Brooks leaned against the rail. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Robin glanced sidelong at the yeoman. "Does he tell you everything?"

Brooks chuckled. "He talks. Carter helps. And if they hadn't, someone else in your gang would have. They are concerned about you."

"Well, they should listen and so should you." Robin's fist drummed the railing then he tossed the pork into the sea. "I am fine."

"Vengeance is mine. I will repay, saith the Lord. Hebrews chapter 10, verse 30."

"What are you? A priest?" Robin scoffed.

"No. Just a man who doesn't want to see his friends caught up and killed in your quest for revenge."

Robin glared at Brooks, who waited for a retort. But something floating down toward the deck caught Robin's eye and any harsh words he'd been ready to utter were stuck in his throat. Brooks followed his gaze and spotted the beige-coloured cloth. It landed directly behind him so he stooped to pick it up. He grinned up at the crow's nest. "Boys will be boys," he sighed, holding the tunic up. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll just drop this off on Much's bunk and then go get some shut-eye. Goodnight, Robin."

As Brooks shuffled away, Robin glanced back up at the crow's nest. Voices drifted on the breeze, low moans barely audible over the flap of sails and the sound of waves lapping against the side of the boat.

Robin could have sworn he heard Carter call out Much's name and his heart ached. What he wouldn't give to have Marian in his arms. Memories...and dreams...that was all he had left of the good times they'd had, the good times that should have been. But when he slept there were only nightmares. And until Vaizey paid, Robin would not rest.