Fic: Treat Much Right
I'm back baby. (and if I can't get the format of this to work this time, after I've had to delete it all once already then a) someone please help! b) sod it).
Title: Treat Much Right
Words: 961
Rating: Egh. PG, perhaps? Teeny tiniest suggestion of slash, but... c'mon..
Summary: Much discovers a rather special place ;) AU, series3 setting.
Disclaimer: Do not own. Yawn.
Notes:
Hi pals! I return from Scotland with a fic! Didn't I say I would? Well I did, anyway. This is set sometime unspecific in series three, which is also when I began writing it, hence no mention of Treat Allan Right. Sequel? Who knows.
I'd like to thank ironmaidenlovewho allowed me to steal the idea of the outlaws having t'internet (from this fic). Don't ask me the implications of that, and indeed this very fic, with regards to them knowing/not knowing that their reality is simply one dreamed up for a tv show. It's too confusing for my poor tired brain to deal with.
Also I should mention that the 'ash shaped like fish' thing comes from the glorious Catface (Caaaaatface, he's got a big cat's face, he's got the body of a cat and the face of a cat...), which obviously I don't own, but I do say check it out if you don't know it.
Much sighed, leaning back against the tree trunk and closing his eyes against the bright light streaming through the forest canopy.
It had been a bad day. Despite Tuck’s insistence that it was important they spread the ‘idea’ of Robin Hood and that they were reaching people, with every trip to the villages Much could sense more and more people feeling considerably less welcoming towards them than they used to be. Although grateful for the food and help the gang brought, they were growing weary of making sacrifices and getting nothing in return. Much could certainly relate to that feeling.
And then of course, there was Kate. For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to stop pushing for more from her, he couldn’t help but feel that if he somehow expressed himself more clearly she’d see just how sincere he was, and… and what? He’d told her how much he cared about her, that he thought she was perfect, and she’d… told him he smelt. Which to be honest, wasn’t the answer he’d been seeking.
Another sigh. He picked up the laptop he’d slunk away from camp with and logged on, hoping to find something with which to distract himself for a while.
An email from John? That was strange. The one time they’d tried to introduce him to the concept of the internet he’d thrown poor Djaq’s MacBook into the river and chased them with his staff. Much had thought he’d not bothered with it since but no, BigBear68, that was definitely the email address Allan had insisted on setting up for him.
Much, it said, thought you should see this. He clicked the link, expecting to see more youtube videos of kittens, or ‘suggestions’ on something different for supper (Robin had once sent him a recipe for lobster. Lobster! How was he supposed to get hold of one of those for goodness’ sake? Much worried about his master sometimes), but instead it took him to one of those livejournal things. Much hadn’t ever bothered with that - if he spent his days reading about other people’s lives he wouldn’t have time to do anything himself! He couldn’t even spare a moment for one hundred and forty characters here and there, although he knew that Robin used Twitter in the hope of keeping an eye on what whoever was in charge of Nottingham this week was up to, and that Vaisey did the same to them (apparently it was less annoying than having ‘that idiot A-Dale swaggering around’).
But once the page had loaded properly he saw that it was rather more interesting than he’d originally thought. The picture, the name….this was about him.
His eyes widened as he scrolled up and down, clicking on this and that. Treat Much Right… these people thought that he deserved better treatment, that Robin took him for granted. Well, it’s about time.
There were stories, pictures, discussion of adventures, even poetry. And they were all about him! Some of the stories, especially those about himself and Robin, raised his eyebrows but to be fair, the authors weren’t that far off. They did not like Kate.
The most surprising thing was that people had actually cared enough to take the time to do all this, all this work just to highlight when people had been unfair to him, or even better, to show something going well for him.
This is incredible…
Much was so absorbed in the community, touched by it, that he didn’t hear Allan approach.
“Oi!” He said, making Much jump a little. “C’mon, suppertime! What’re you looking at?”
He hastily closed the window. “Nothing.”
Allan raised an eyebrow, that irritating smirk on his lips. “Careful mate, you might end up on some sort of register.”
Much’s mouth opened and closed, eyes wide in indignation. “Really!”
Allan laughed, holding out his hand to help Much to his feet. “Come on. Sure you won’t tell me what it was? Cuz if not I’ll assume you were buying me a present. Is my birthday soon y’know.” He grinned cheekily.
Much rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing. Nothing important.” Which was untrue, of course. It was probably one of the most important things he’d ever discovered, to him anyway, but it wasn’t something he wanted to share with Allan; despite their new friendship (something which had apparently been very well received) he still thought it might appear rather humorous to the younger outlaw.
“Fine.” Shrugged Allan. “Long as you don’t start serving us ash shaped like fish and saying it’s very important in our diets.”
Much tried to sigh in exasperation, but ended up laughing a little instead, and made his way back to camp with his friend.
Later on, and when he was sure no-one else was paying them any attention, he sidled up to John. “Um.. John?”
“Yes?” He grunted. Not unkindly, it was just his way.
“I.. I got your email. Thank you.” His blue eyes met John’s dark brown ones, eager to convey his sincere gratitude.
John smiled “you’re welcome” at him, and Much turned to go, but then paused.
“Why did you send it? How did you find it even, I thought you didn’t use the internet?”
Noticing Much’s uneasy glances towards where the others were sitting, John looked around before answering. “Only really use the thing to talk to Will and Djaq. But the other day I was just looking at stuff and found it.” He shrugged, then looked up at Much. “I sent it because you deserve to know that there are people who care about you. Especially as we don’t show it enough.”
Much stared at him. John didn’t say a lot, unlike him, but often when he did it was exactly what you needed to hear.
“Thank you.”
- - -
Yeeaaahh... I'm not sure about that ending either. A touch abrupt, n'est pas? Meh, I didn't know what else to put, and I didn't want it lying around almost-but-very-annoyingly-not finished, like a certain other fic I could mention. Anyway, comments very appreciated xx
Edit: dammit to the bowels of bloody hell! Could someone who LJ *doesn't* hate please remove the boldyness from the main ficcage bit please? *sigh* HA, in your FACE LJ, I worked it out! My blasted tiredness and confusion was a large part of the problem I feel. Anyway, is done. Yay. I can has sleepz nao?