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Will Stutely (sly_stutely) wrote in nevermore_logs,

Somewhere along the walk, Will's hoarse laughter had died and he'd grown silent.

For one heady moment, everything had been as it ought. Robin Hood victorious, Gisborne thwarted and satisfyingly humiliated, the Merry Men... not quite all together, but near enough, alive to fight another day. This was what he'd missed, this was what he'd ached for even when he'd had no inkling of what he had lost.

But adrenaline didn't last, and by the time Robin helped him to the bench, Will was swaying with the effort of staying upright. Exhaustion dragged at him, but he couldn't give into it yet. Passing out would be a shitty way of thanking Robin for saving his sorry arse.

When Robin returned, Will drank greedily, fumbling the bottle in his stiff hands. The right one was near-useless, three fingers bent and swollen from Gisborne's ministrations. God, he must look like shit. Probably smelled something like it, too, the looks people were throwing him.

He looked down at his feet, suddenly unable to meet Robin's eyes. "Thanks, mate. Saved my arse again."