Robin held his hands up then, in surrender, despite the fact that they were covered in blood. "Aye, let's all just take a breath," he said, trying to sound calm, but fuck his face hurt. Of all the people he thought might headbutt him, he hadn't assumed it would be the Friar.
Tuck let Scarlet pull him backwards, but made sure to slip his hand into Scarlet's to keep himself there. He didn't want to leap forward again if something bloody stupid came out of Robin's mouth.
"Let's talk, aye?" Robin suggested gently. "Over food, I'm clammin' and you all look half-starved. I have a lot to make up for. Friar? Look at me. I'm going to do my best to make up for it."
Tuck scowled at Robin, but he nodded once, and headed into his kitchen to grab a washcloth and an icepack for Robin's nose. He sort of chucked them at the man, but at least Robin got further than a step into the damn parsonage.
"Table?" Robin went to sit, mopping at his face with the cloth. "Hell of a headbutt, Friar."
"There's more where that came from," Tuck growled at Robin.
Robin realised none of these men were going to break bread with him if he didn't offer them at least a bit of explanation. "I've been in solitary since they dragged me into the clink. No phone calls, no exercise, no nothing."
Tuck snorted derisively. "And three square a day, right?"
Robin looked around at all three of them, "alright, what happened to you three?!"