Fic: Hope for Healing - Chapter 11
Title: Hope for Healing - Chapter 11
Author: wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Matilda, Guy, Little John
Rating: PG
Genre: Drama, Angst
Words: 1404
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own anything you find familiar.
Notes: Thank you again to my betas: jagnikjen and robinfanatic
Summary: John asks Matilda for an alternate escape route...
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Previous Chapter
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CHAPTER 11
Matilda dreaded what she might find when Gisborne collected her and took her down to the dungeon the next morning after breakfast. She half expected John to still be hanging in the main area so when they stopped at the cell door she let out a small sigh of relief.
Her relief was short-lived.
John's arms were still attached to the rest of him but that was about all she had to be grateful for. He was sitting, propped up against the wall, in the corner of his cell. The bruises on his face and body had darkened while his skin had paled and his nose and moustache were crusted with dried blood. Gisborne must have acted on her admonishment about giving John more water but from the state of his leggings, John must not have had his hands free, or had not been conscious, when he needed to relieve himself of it. He looked to be asleep - or unconscious - but his eyes flickered open as the door grated on its hinges.
Matilda shook her head and tutted as she looked down at him. "Most men at least make an effort when they know they're going to meet a woman, John. You look worse every time I see you!"
"Sorry. Take it up... with my manservant," he replied grimly between laboured breaths.
Matilda carefully inspected his various injuries. "Anything new?"
John slowly held up his left hand with the broken fingers.
Matilda turned and directed her most venomous glare at Gisborne who merely shrugged.
"If he told us where Hood's camp is, none of this would be necessary," he said, calmly.
Matilda turned back to John. "I'll need to reset these before I bind them, John - sorry." She took hold of his ring finger and prepared to straighten it.
"Leave it!" Gisborne barked. "You can fix anything that might kill him - nothing else."
"You let me fix his shoulder!" Matilda protested.
"Because that was easy - and quick."
"So let me splint these. You can break them all over again in about two weeks time - or is that not quick enough for you?" she snarled.
"The sheriff's patience will not last two weeks," Gisborne said coldly. "He'll be dead by then."
"And you still won't know where the camp is," John said, faintly but defiantly.
"At least let me clean the cuts on his back!" Matilda hurriedly interjected as Gisborne took a threatening step forward. "If those get infected he could be dead by tomorrow."
Gisborne looked like he still wanted to punch John but he sniffed and nodded his head curtly in agreement.
Matilda helped John to sit in front of her with his arms resting on his legs. She knelt behind him and set to work with a bucket of water and some clean cloths, carefully wiping the sweat and dirt away from the whip welts on his back and the burns on his side.
Gisborne quickly grew bored and took the guard aside into the corridor. He kept his voice low but Matilda heard him making certain the new guard had learned the lesson of what had happened to the last one and explaining the consequences of any self-appointed harm dealt to the prisoner.
Once she was sure they were out of Gisborne's sight, Matilda hurriedly rummaged in her bag and took out two small bottles. "John - here! Drink one mouthful of this and then take two small sips of this - no more mind you!" She removed the stoppers from them and handed them to him one at a time. "The first will help fight any infection and the second is for the pain."
John hesitated after taking the two prescribed small sips from the second bottle and she gestured frantically to him. "Come on! Give it here before Gisborne comes back."
"What... what would happen if I drank it all?" John quietly asked.
"All of it? It'd kill you - that's what'd happen! Now give it here."
John's grip tightened slightly but noticeably around the vial. "I can't tell them where the camp is, Maddy." He turned and looked pleadingly up at her.
Matilda felt a lump come to her throat as she looked at the despair in his eyes. It had been a long time since she'd been called that by anyone. "Marian is going to find a way to tell Robin and he will get you out of here, John. I promise." She swallowed hard. "Please... give me the potion back," she said, softly. She gently pried John's large fingers from around the small bottle.
He didn't resist her but his eyes followed it all the way back into her bag. Only when it was fully hidden again did he close his eyes with a great sigh and let his head drop.
Matilda stroked his hair, then leaned over and kissed the side of his face. "I know, love, I know... I promise if Robin doesn't get you out soon, I'll give you the bottle back."
John turned and looked up at her again.
Matilda had seen that look more than once - gratitude for the offer of a swift death. She'd seen it on people who had finally accepted that whatever disease they were fighting had won and they were ready to surrender gracefully. There had been times when all her attempted remedies had failed or when it became apparent that continued life just meant continued pain. Sometimes she would just quietly leave the bottle by the bed and come back a few minutes later - sometimes if they were too far gone she'd even helped them take it themselves - but she always sat with them as they took their final long sleep. It was something she hated doing but a good end was the only victory you could take from some situations.
Could she really do that for a man who was still fit and in relatively good health? Whose wish to die was solely caused by the actions of others and not some illness or disease? She'd stopped Robin killing a man to prevent him telling his secret - was this any different? She just hoped that knowing the bottle was there if he needed it would give John the strength to hold on a little longer. It certainly seemed to bring a little determination back to his eyes.
She finished applying fresh ointment to John's back and the burns on his side, then moved in front of him, knelt between his legs and gently washed his face. She put some ointment on his eye and was just putting the rest of her bandages and potions away when Gisborne returned.
"Done?" he snapped.
"Yes."
"Good. Get your cloak and let's go."
Matilda helped John sit back. She leaned him against the cell wall on his better shoulder. "Don't rest against your back for a short while - give the ointment time to dry in."
He nodded and cradled his left wrist in his right hand, supporting his broken fingers. "Thank you."
Matilda ran her hand through his unruly hair and then leaned forward and kissed him again, briefly, but properly, on the mouth.
John looked up at her in surprise. "What was that for?"
"Thought I'd give you something else to hope for," she whispered, then as she heard Gisborne approaching she added more loudly for his benefit, "For luck, John."
"If he's lucky we'll give him a swift death when he tells us where Hood's camp is," Gisborne said with contempt as he towered over them.
"In your dreams, Gisborne," John growled.
Gisborne hauled Matilda to her feet. He turned back to John as they left the cell. "You've got eight more fingers and ten toes before I start on your legs. Dream about that!" He snatched the torch up from the wall outside the cell and carried it away, plunging the cell into darkness.
"You need to come see Marian again - she still has not woken from her fever," Gisborne told Matilda as they moved away up the corridor.
Matilda glanced back to the darkened cell door and beyond to the faint glow of the guard's torch in the lower area. She hoped John had not heard Gisborne's comment. If Marian never woke, then John was certainly lost as well and Matilda had a nasty feeling she would join them both very shortly after...
>>>------------------------------>
Next Chapter
>>>------------------------------>
Author: wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Matilda, Guy, Little John
Rating: PG
Genre: Drama, Angst
Words: 1404
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own anything you find familiar.
Notes: Thank you again to my betas: jagnikjen and robinfanatic
Summary: John asks Matilda for an alternate escape route...
>>>------------------------------>
Previous Chapter
>>>------------------------------>
CHAPTER 11
Matilda dreaded what she might find when Gisborne collected her and took her down to the dungeon the next morning after breakfast. She half expected John to still be hanging in the main area so when they stopped at the cell door she let out a small sigh of relief.
Her relief was short-lived.
John's arms were still attached to the rest of him but that was about all she had to be grateful for. He was sitting, propped up against the wall, in the corner of his cell. The bruises on his face and body had darkened while his skin had paled and his nose and moustache were crusted with dried blood. Gisborne must have acted on her admonishment about giving John more water but from the state of his leggings, John must not have had his hands free, or had not been conscious, when he needed to relieve himself of it. He looked to be asleep - or unconscious - but his eyes flickered open as the door grated on its hinges.
Matilda shook her head and tutted as she looked down at him. "Most men at least make an effort when they know they're going to meet a woman, John. You look worse every time I see you!"
"Sorry. Take it up... with my manservant," he replied grimly between laboured breaths.
Matilda carefully inspected his various injuries. "Anything new?"
John slowly held up his left hand with the broken fingers.
Matilda turned and directed her most venomous glare at Gisborne who merely shrugged.
"If he told us where Hood's camp is, none of this would be necessary," he said, calmly.
Matilda turned back to John. "I'll need to reset these before I bind them, John - sorry." She took hold of his ring finger and prepared to straighten it.
"Leave it!" Gisborne barked. "You can fix anything that might kill him - nothing else."
"You let me fix his shoulder!" Matilda protested.
"Because that was easy - and quick."
"So let me splint these. You can break them all over again in about two weeks time - or is that not quick enough for you?" she snarled.
"The sheriff's patience will not last two weeks," Gisborne said coldly. "He'll be dead by then."
"And you still won't know where the camp is," John said, faintly but defiantly.
"At least let me clean the cuts on his back!" Matilda hurriedly interjected as Gisborne took a threatening step forward. "If those get infected he could be dead by tomorrow."
Gisborne looked like he still wanted to punch John but he sniffed and nodded his head curtly in agreement.
Matilda helped John to sit in front of her with his arms resting on his legs. She knelt behind him and set to work with a bucket of water and some clean cloths, carefully wiping the sweat and dirt away from the whip welts on his back and the burns on his side.
Gisborne quickly grew bored and took the guard aside into the corridor. He kept his voice low but Matilda heard him making certain the new guard had learned the lesson of what had happened to the last one and explaining the consequences of any self-appointed harm dealt to the prisoner.
Once she was sure they were out of Gisborne's sight, Matilda hurriedly rummaged in her bag and took out two small bottles. "John - here! Drink one mouthful of this and then take two small sips of this - no more mind you!" She removed the stoppers from them and handed them to him one at a time. "The first will help fight any infection and the second is for the pain."
John hesitated after taking the two prescribed small sips from the second bottle and she gestured frantically to him. "Come on! Give it here before Gisborne comes back."
"What... what would happen if I drank it all?" John quietly asked.
"All of it? It'd kill you - that's what'd happen! Now give it here."
John's grip tightened slightly but noticeably around the vial. "I can't tell them where the camp is, Maddy." He turned and looked pleadingly up at her.
Matilda felt a lump come to her throat as she looked at the despair in his eyes. It had been a long time since she'd been called that by anyone. "Marian is going to find a way to tell Robin and he will get you out of here, John. I promise." She swallowed hard. "Please... give me the potion back," she said, softly. She gently pried John's large fingers from around the small bottle.
He didn't resist her but his eyes followed it all the way back into her bag. Only when it was fully hidden again did he close his eyes with a great sigh and let his head drop.
Matilda stroked his hair, then leaned over and kissed the side of his face. "I know, love, I know... I promise if Robin doesn't get you out soon, I'll give you the bottle back."
John turned and looked up at her again.
Matilda had seen that look more than once - gratitude for the offer of a swift death. She'd seen it on people who had finally accepted that whatever disease they were fighting had won and they were ready to surrender gracefully. There had been times when all her attempted remedies had failed or when it became apparent that continued life just meant continued pain. Sometimes she would just quietly leave the bottle by the bed and come back a few minutes later - sometimes if they were too far gone she'd even helped them take it themselves - but she always sat with them as they took their final long sleep. It was something she hated doing but a good end was the only victory you could take from some situations.
Could she really do that for a man who was still fit and in relatively good health? Whose wish to die was solely caused by the actions of others and not some illness or disease? She'd stopped Robin killing a man to prevent him telling his secret - was this any different? She just hoped that knowing the bottle was there if he needed it would give John the strength to hold on a little longer. It certainly seemed to bring a little determination back to his eyes.
She finished applying fresh ointment to John's back and the burns on his side, then moved in front of him, knelt between his legs and gently washed his face. She put some ointment on his eye and was just putting the rest of her bandages and potions away when Gisborne returned.
"Done?" he snapped.
"Yes."
"Good. Get your cloak and let's go."
Matilda helped John sit back. She leaned him against the cell wall on his better shoulder. "Don't rest against your back for a short while - give the ointment time to dry in."
He nodded and cradled his left wrist in his right hand, supporting his broken fingers. "Thank you."
Matilda ran her hand through his unruly hair and then leaned forward and kissed him again, briefly, but properly, on the mouth.
John looked up at her in surprise. "What was that for?"
"Thought I'd give you something else to hope for," she whispered, then as she heard Gisborne approaching she added more loudly for his benefit, "For luck, John."
"If he's lucky we'll give him a swift death when he tells us where Hood's camp is," Gisborne said with contempt as he towered over them.
"In your dreams, Gisborne," John growled.
Gisborne hauled Matilda to her feet. He turned back to John as they left the cell. "You've got eight more fingers and ten toes before I start on your legs. Dream about that!" He snatched the torch up from the wall outside the cell and carried it away, plunging the cell into darkness.
"You need to come see Marian again - she still has not woken from her fever," Gisborne told Matilda as they moved away up the corridor.
Matilda glanced back to the darkened cell door and beyond to the faint glow of the guard's torch in the lower area. She hoped John had not heard Gisborne's comment. If Marian never woke, then John was certainly lost as well and Matilda had a nasty feeling she would join them both very shortly after...
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Next Chapter
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