If I Fell
Title: If I Fell
Spoilers: 2x08
Rating: R
Word count: 1666
Warnings: angst, fluff, slash
Characters: Much/Carter
Copyright: BBC & TigerAspect own, I just want to play in their universe
Summary: takes place near the end 2x08 in the hours prior to Carter's departure. Much and Carter, uh, carry on...
This follows the action of The Hunt, and was written because I wanted to see if I could make what I started in that story fit into the last few minutes of 2x08. Let me know if it works. My working title was "Falling" but the old Beatles song "If I Fell" got stuck in my head.
Comments always welcome.
>->------------>>
Much and Carter walked side by side back toward the camp, rabbits slung over their shoulders. They stole glances at each other as they walked along the leaf-covered path, and giggled like schoolboys up to some mischief.
Djaq was the only one who took notice of the two men as they sauntered into the outlaw's camp. Will was busy carving some new masterpiece with his wood and John was dozing in his hammock. Marian was on the far side of the camp tossing daggers at a tree. Djaq wondered if she pictured Robin as the tree-the two of them hadn’t spoken since the gang's return from Nottingham late the evening before. He’d begrudgingly thanked her for saving his life, but his pride was wounded so he pretended to ignore her, quietly sulking on the opposite side of the camp.
"Look what you've brought!" Djaq exclaimed causing John to start and the others to glance their way.
"Rabbit!" Much beamed as he and Carter held their prizes high and smiled at each other.
"Eh?" John mumbled.
"Dinner, John," Djaq replied.
"Doesn't look ready to me," he grunted.
"We'll fix that," Carter said.
"Carter and I are cooking tonight,” Much added. “And won't it be a feast? You should be honored to have your meal prepared by two soldiers of the King's Private Guard!"
Robin chuckled and Marian aimed an impatient glare his way, hiding her disappointment that the main course for the third night in a row would be rabbit. Much was as much aware of that fact as anyone in the camp, but he just seemed pleased to see Robin smile. He had high hopes that the tension between those two that lay over the camp like a blanket of fog might finally begin to fade.
The cooks went straight to work. They compared skinning techniques and discussed the finer points of herbs while the fire grew hot. Djaq eyed their banter from her spot by the campfire while the rest of the gang seemed oblivious to the love-struck boys. She was the only one who observed the not-so accidental brushing of hands, the looks that crossed between the two men, and the growing reddish blush on Much's cheeks. She smiled as Carter had to squeeze past Much in the tight confines of the kitchen. She noticed how he took his time, placed his hands gently on Much’s waist to get by, and whispered something that made the cook's blue eyes light up.
When the rabbits were finally done Much chopped them apart and began to dole out helpings. John eyed his plate suspiciously. His portion was noticeably smaller than the one Much handed to Carter. He threw them both a frown but took a seat without any grumbling.
Much sat across the campfire from Carter while they ate and tried not to let his eyes linger too long on the beautiful blond soldier. The gang chattered incessantly. They’d outsmarted the Sheriff but Gisborne’s sword laid across Robin’s neck reminded them how close they’d been to disaster. Marian was thanked profusely for halting what could have been a bloody, deadly scene. Even Robin melted a bit and thanked her again. Tempers flared when Marian told them how Gisborne practically ordered her to forsake Ripley Convent to stay at the castle. But everyone erupted in laughter as Robin and Carter re-enacted the scene in the Great Hall, each one taking turns to mimic Vaisey’s expressions when Robin came back to life.
A second flask of wine was passed around and the mood turned more somber as Carter and Much shared stories about the King’s Holy War. Robin grew quiet, his eyes never meeting theirs. Robin was somewhere else, unwilling to talk about what they’d seen there… what they’d done there…
The others did not miss the change in their leader’s mood. They caught the crushing pain that crossed Much’s face as Robin fled from the camp. A soft smile from Carter seemed to lift Much’s spirits. The cook sighed deeply as their eyes met and he let the soldier’s stories take him to the nightmarish places they’d been. Somehow, he found comfort hearing those tales and sharing his own.
Robin sauntered back into the camp as the fire died down and the lads settled into their bunks for the night. Carter tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He noticed Marian and Djaq curled up near each other for warmth and listened to the soft snores from John and Will holding a beat to the songs of night’s creatures. He finally got up and wandered into the wood. Much stirred, watched him go, then decided he could wait no longer to follow.
"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" Much asked as he caught up to the younger man.
"Waiting for you," Carter replied. "I-- I wanted to make sure we had time to say good-bye."
Much felt his throat go dry. "So you're leaving then?"
"For a while."
"I guess I should have known," Much said, placing his hands on his hips. There was no anger in his voice. No coldness… just a woodenness he feigned so his emotions wouldn’t get the better of him.
Carter hung his head. When he looked up, his face had a somber cast that even the light of the full moon could not dispel. "I need to go back to the Holy Land and say a proper good-bye to Thomas."
Guilt washed across Much’s face. "Of course. You must do this," he replied. “Maybe it wasn’t such a wise thing we did-“
“Please don’t say that,” Carter said as he reached out to wrap his arms around Much. "I'll come back," he whispered, his breath hot on Much’s neck.
Much pressed his cheek against Carter’s and ran a hand through his hair. "Good," he said, planting a gentle kiss on Carter's lips.
"What about what England thinks?" Carter asked, remembering how Much poured his heart out earlier that day. England wouldn’t look kindly on a relationship between two men-
"England,” Much replied, interrupting Carter’s thoughts, “doesn't have to know."
"And the gang?"
Much chuckled. "Djaq knows. I could tell by the way she kept looking from you to me. John may have caught wind of it, too. Will... I don't know."
"And Robin?"
"Robin has Marian... or will have her as soon as they grow up."
Carter smiled a crooked smile and his eyes began to smolder with such intensity that Much’s knees suddenly felt weak.
“I know that look-“
Carter gently pulled Much down to the ground. Hands roamed against flesh and passion swept the two lovers away.
>->------------>>
Carter woke abruptly when the warm body beside him trembled uncontrollably. Much’s soft cries were barely audible against the rustle of trees in the wind. Carter pulled his lover into his arms. "What's wrong?" he asked. "I tell you-I will come back."
"It's not that.”
“Your tears-“
“Good tears,” Much replied.
"You’re happy that I'm leaving?"
"Oh please! That's not what I meant!” Much replied as Carter kissed the tears from his cheek. His voice grew soft. “The last time I felt like this… it was years ago. It was Robin. I always thought Robin made me whole. But I was wrong. It's you.”
“Much-“
Much pressed his finger against Carter’s lips. “I lost a piece of Robin in the Holy Land,” he said sadly. “But you… we laugh, we talk, we share those godforsaken memories-“ Much choked “-and I cannot tell you how much that means to me.”
“You don’t have to because I already know,” Carter told him.
“Sun’ll be up soon,” Much said, snuggling as close to Carter as humanly possible. “We’d best head back to the camp.”
Carter planted a kiss on his forehead. “Not yet. We have time,” he replied as his kisses trailed down the outlaw’s face until he found the safe and gentle warmth of Much’s lips.
>->------------>>
Much and Carter arrived back at the campsite before the others rose and no one seemed the wiser. After breakfast Carter saddled his horse. From the corner of his eye, he watched Much who was sitting by the campfire, his finger lightly tracing across his lip. Carter caught his breath and looked away knowing that the heat rising in his belly wasn’t from the flames of that fire.
Little John dragged Much away from the campsite for a few minutes to check the road while the young soldier said his good-byes to Will and Djaq. Will jammed supplies for Carter’s journey into the horse’s saddle pack and checked the cinch one last time as John and Much wandered back toward the camp.
"I better be off,” Carter said as he met Robin coming down the hill.
“Are you sure you don't want to stay?” Robin asked.
“I do, but I'm going back to the Holy Land. I want to visit my brother's grave. Say good-bye properly. Tell him I'm sorry. I thought I was honoring his memory. And I thought I could do something useful. Warn King Richard for you.”
“Thank you,” Robin said, clasping Carter’s hand in a firm shake.
Carter turned, his eyes fixed on Much. He approached his lover, stealing a quick glance at the gang as Much passed him the reins of the horse. Carter brought the cook’s rough, shaking hands to his lips. He slipped his fingers around the back of the outlaw’s neck. “Who cares what others think,” he said quietly. He pulled Much to him then cupped his face in both hands, bringing his mouth to Much’s in a long, passionate kiss.
Carter mounted his horse as Robin called out, “Safe journey, my friend.”
Carter raised his hand then rode away. He stopped at the top of the hill to look back one last time. The gang waved him a good-bye but Much was the only one he saw.
THE END
>->------------>>
Spoilers: 2x08
Rating: R
Word count: 1666
Warnings: angst, fluff, slash
Characters: Much/Carter
Copyright: BBC & TigerAspect own, I just want to play in their universe
Summary: takes place near the end 2x08 in the hours prior to Carter's departure. Much and Carter, uh, carry on...
This follows the action of The Hunt, and was written because I wanted to see if I could make what I started in that story fit into the last few minutes of 2x08. Let me know if it works. My working title was "Falling" but the old Beatles song "If I Fell" got stuck in my head.
Comments always welcome.
>->------------>>
Much and Carter walked side by side back toward the camp, rabbits slung over their shoulders. They stole glances at each other as they walked along the leaf-covered path, and giggled like schoolboys up to some mischief.
Djaq was the only one who took notice of the two men as they sauntered into the outlaw's camp. Will was busy carving some new masterpiece with his wood and John was dozing in his hammock. Marian was on the far side of the camp tossing daggers at a tree. Djaq wondered if she pictured Robin as the tree-the two of them hadn’t spoken since the gang's return from Nottingham late the evening before. He’d begrudgingly thanked her for saving his life, but his pride was wounded so he pretended to ignore her, quietly sulking on the opposite side of the camp.
"Look what you've brought!" Djaq exclaimed causing John to start and the others to glance their way.
"Rabbit!" Much beamed as he and Carter held their prizes high and smiled at each other.
"Eh?" John mumbled.
"Dinner, John," Djaq replied.
"Doesn't look ready to me," he grunted.
"We'll fix that," Carter said.
"Carter and I are cooking tonight,” Much added. “And won't it be a feast? You should be honored to have your meal prepared by two soldiers of the King's Private Guard!"
Robin chuckled and Marian aimed an impatient glare his way, hiding her disappointment that the main course for the third night in a row would be rabbit. Much was as much aware of that fact as anyone in the camp, but he just seemed pleased to see Robin smile. He had high hopes that the tension between those two that lay over the camp like a blanket of fog might finally begin to fade.
The cooks went straight to work. They compared skinning techniques and discussed the finer points of herbs while the fire grew hot. Djaq eyed their banter from her spot by the campfire while the rest of the gang seemed oblivious to the love-struck boys. She was the only one who observed the not-so accidental brushing of hands, the looks that crossed between the two men, and the growing reddish blush on Much's cheeks. She smiled as Carter had to squeeze past Much in the tight confines of the kitchen. She noticed how he took his time, placed his hands gently on Much’s waist to get by, and whispered something that made the cook's blue eyes light up.
When the rabbits were finally done Much chopped them apart and began to dole out helpings. John eyed his plate suspiciously. His portion was noticeably smaller than the one Much handed to Carter. He threw them both a frown but took a seat without any grumbling.
Much sat across the campfire from Carter while they ate and tried not to let his eyes linger too long on the beautiful blond soldier. The gang chattered incessantly. They’d outsmarted the Sheriff but Gisborne’s sword laid across Robin’s neck reminded them how close they’d been to disaster. Marian was thanked profusely for halting what could have been a bloody, deadly scene. Even Robin melted a bit and thanked her again. Tempers flared when Marian told them how Gisborne practically ordered her to forsake Ripley Convent to stay at the castle. But everyone erupted in laughter as Robin and Carter re-enacted the scene in the Great Hall, each one taking turns to mimic Vaisey’s expressions when Robin came back to life.
A second flask of wine was passed around and the mood turned more somber as Carter and Much shared stories about the King’s Holy War. Robin grew quiet, his eyes never meeting theirs. Robin was somewhere else, unwilling to talk about what they’d seen there… what they’d done there…
The others did not miss the change in their leader’s mood. They caught the crushing pain that crossed Much’s face as Robin fled from the camp. A soft smile from Carter seemed to lift Much’s spirits. The cook sighed deeply as their eyes met and he let the soldier’s stories take him to the nightmarish places they’d been. Somehow, he found comfort hearing those tales and sharing his own.
Robin sauntered back into the camp as the fire died down and the lads settled into their bunks for the night. Carter tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He noticed Marian and Djaq curled up near each other for warmth and listened to the soft snores from John and Will holding a beat to the songs of night’s creatures. He finally got up and wandered into the wood. Much stirred, watched him go, then decided he could wait no longer to follow.
"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" Much asked as he caught up to the younger man.
"Waiting for you," Carter replied. "I-- I wanted to make sure we had time to say good-bye."
Much felt his throat go dry. "So you're leaving then?"
"For a while."
"I guess I should have known," Much said, placing his hands on his hips. There was no anger in his voice. No coldness… just a woodenness he feigned so his emotions wouldn’t get the better of him.
Carter hung his head. When he looked up, his face had a somber cast that even the light of the full moon could not dispel. "I need to go back to the Holy Land and say a proper good-bye to Thomas."
Guilt washed across Much’s face. "Of course. You must do this," he replied. “Maybe it wasn’t such a wise thing we did-“
“Please don’t say that,” Carter said as he reached out to wrap his arms around Much. "I'll come back," he whispered, his breath hot on Much’s neck.
Much pressed his cheek against Carter’s and ran a hand through his hair. "Good," he said, planting a gentle kiss on Carter's lips.
"What about what England thinks?" Carter asked, remembering how Much poured his heart out earlier that day. England wouldn’t look kindly on a relationship between two men-
"England,” Much replied, interrupting Carter’s thoughts, “doesn't have to know."
"And the gang?"
Much chuckled. "Djaq knows. I could tell by the way she kept looking from you to me. John may have caught wind of it, too. Will... I don't know."
"And Robin?"
"Robin has Marian... or will have her as soon as they grow up."
Carter smiled a crooked smile and his eyes began to smolder with such intensity that Much’s knees suddenly felt weak.
“I know that look-“
Carter gently pulled Much down to the ground. Hands roamed against flesh and passion swept the two lovers away.
>->------------>>
Carter woke abruptly when the warm body beside him trembled uncontrollably. Much’s soft cries were barely audible against the rustle of trees in the wind. Carter pulled his lover into his arms. "What's wrong?" he asked. "I tell you-I will come back."
"It's not that.”
“Your tears-“
“Good tears,” Much replied.
"You’re happy that I'm leaving?"
"Oh please! That's not what I meant!” Much replied as Carter kissed the tears from his cheek. His voice grew soft. “The last time I felt like this… it was years ago. It was Robin. I always thought Robin made me whole. But I was wrong. It's you.”
“Much-“
Much pressed his finger against Carter’s lips. “I lost a piece of Robin in the Holy Land,” he said sadly. “But you… we laugh, we talk, we share those godforsaken memories-“ Much choked “-and I cannot tell you how much that means to me.”
“You don’t have to because I already know,” Carter told him.
“Sun’ll be up soon,” Much said, snuggling as close to Carter as humanly possible. “We’d best head back to the camp.”
Carter planted a kiss on his forehead. “Not yet. We have time,” he replied as his kisses trailed down the outlaw’s face until he found the safe and gentle warmth of Much’s lips.
>->------------>>
Much and Carter arrived back at the campsite before the others rose and no one seemed the wiser. After breakfast Carter saddled his horse. From the corner of his eye, he watched Much who was sitting by the campfire, his finger lightly tracing across his lip. Carter caught his breath and looked away knowing that the heat rising in his belly wasn’t from the flames of that fire.
Little John dragged Much away from the campsite for a few minutes to check the road while the young soldier said his good-byes to Will and Djaq. Will jammed supplies for Carter’s journey into the horse’s saddle pack and checked the cinch one last time as John and Much wandered back toward the camp.
"I better be off,” Carter said as he met Robin coming down the hill.
“Are you sure you don't want to stay?” Robin asked.
“I do, but I'm going back to the Holy Land. I want to visit my brother's grave. Say good-bye properly. Tell him I'm sorry. I thought I was honoring his memory. And I thought I could do something useful. Warn King Richard for you.”
“Thank you,” Robin said, clasping Carter’s hand in a firm shake.
Carter turned, his eyes fixed on Much. He approached his lover, stealing a quick glance at the gang as Much passed him the reins of the horse. Carter brought the cook’s rough, shaking hands to his lips. He slipped his fingers around the back of the outlaw’s neck. “Who cares what others think,” he said quietly. He pulled Much to him then cupped his face in both hands, bringing his mouth to Much’s in a long, passionate kiss.
Carter mounted his horse as Robin called out, “Safe journey, my friend.”
Carter raised his hand then rode away. He stopped at the top of the hill to look back one last time. The gang waved him a good-bye but Much was the only one he saw.
THE END
>->------------>>