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I now seem to be finishing off my Robin Hood fics except I've really been spending most of my time writing a Scrubs fic except I thought I was supposed to be finishing off my PR fics first. I haven't even looked at the Narnia fics yet. Wait. What was I supposed to be doing again?

As Good As Dead
Rating: G
Genre: Angst
Summary: A slightly extended scene from 'Get Carter' from Allan's POV.

As Good As Dead

He was dead.

The phrase repeated itself over and over again in the chaos of Allan’s mind. It figured that the one time he tried to do the right thing it would come crashing down on him. His thoughts tumbled over themselves as he searched for an excuse that would stop Guy from trying to visit Marian. As he followed him down the stairs into the courtyard, he realized he was running out of time. The horses were packed and ready to go. If Gisborne found out Allan had lied to him about Marian’s whereabouts, he was dead. If Allan told Guy where Marian really was, Robin would kill him and well, he’d be dead. His thoughts were in so much turmoil that he didn’t even notice the body laid out in the courtyard until Guy spoke up.

Suddenly, Allan found himself doing all he could to stop himself from falling down the rest of the steps as all his thoughts immediately ceased. His brain and eyes had become locked on what lay on display across the wagon below. It was the body of Robin of Locksley. Robin Hood was dead.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but the sound of his quickened breathing as he stared at the corpse. He shook his head. He couldn’t believe it. No way could Robin be caught so easily. But there he was, his body looking more asleep than dead, just like Marian had looked when… His quick wits finally caught up with him. It was not so easy to trick a trickster.

He couldn’t help noticing the new servants Carter had acquired: one tall and thin as a spear, one also tall but broad as a bear, one short and stocky, one short and slight. All of them were wrapped tightly in cloaks, there hooded faces surreptitiously turned away.

Allan shook his head again. No way were Guy and the Sheriff going to fall for this. And even as he thought it, Gisborne raised his sword planning to make sure Robin Hood truly was dead.

Biting his lip, Allan took a tentative step forward. If he said anything, he’d give both himself and the gang away. Then they’d all be dead. Surely, one of the others would do something. He watched, frozen, as the sword made its way to Robin’s bare neck and held his breath.

Marion’s sudden appearance made him jump and his jaw dropped almost all the way to the ground. He couldn’t believe his good luck. At least, that solved one problem, even if it had nothing to do with him. He watched her ignore the dead body of her love as she played Gisborne, sir Guy now completely distracted from everything else going on. Allan couldn’t help himself as he rolled his eyes. One of these days, Marion’s games were going to catch up with her. He should know afterall, look what happened to him.

Gisborne commanded him to carry on as he led Marion away and Allan nodded back absently. Once they were gone, the former outlaw approached the mock funeral procession giving the impression of checking the body for himself. He had to admit the set up was quite good. Robin didn’t even appear to be breathing, but Allan knew death. He had certainly seen enough of it and this wasn’t it. The skin was missing the paleness and the lips the bluish tinge of death. Not to mention there didn’t appear to be a mark on him. Even if he hadn’t noticed these things, Marion’s callous act towards Robin’s supposed death would have given it all away.

Making sure the guards were out of earshot, he leaned towards Carter and whispered, “Nice trick.”

A flash of anxiety passed over Carter’s normally impassive face and Allan gave him a smirk in response though there was no humour in the expression. The hooded outlaws began closing in around him and Allan suddenly found himself looking into the face of Will Scarlett. The painful stab of cold fury directed at him by his former best friend made Allan falter, but the feel of a concealed dagger at his back brought him out of it.

“If you say one word…” hissed Much.

Briefly closing his eyes, Allan took a deep breath then hid his feelings with a sneer. “Then I’m dead. I know,” he finished for Much. Stepping away from his old gang, he called to the guards. “Take the body to the Sherriff. And don’t go messing with it. I’m sure the Sherriff wants to reserve that privilege for himself.”

Allan watched as the outlaws helped carry away the not-so-dead body of their leader. He glanced at their faces with some small, vain hope that maybe there’d be some gratitude for his efforts, but all he got back was anger, disgust and disappointment. Unable to take anymore, he turned away in search of Marion. She probably needed rescuing from Guy’s greasy hands by now. At least, she would appreciate his help. The others obviously didn’t want it. To them, he might as well already be dead.
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