Five Times it Doesn't End the Way it Did

Authors Note: Ok, so basically there are a couple things in season 2 I didn't like. And, the joy of the five times fic is that I can change them all. Its sort of an attempt to change a few things that then had bigger consequences. We are starting with the most obvious of thing that impacted season 2, Allan's betrayal. It has always annoyed me that no one noticed he was missing!

I have no beta, so forgive me my mistakes. Thanks.

As always reviews are my lifeblood, so leave one!

One- Rescue

He isn't sure what hurts the most about this whole situation. This is perhaps evidence that he has taken one too many hits to the head, because clearly it is the fact that he is tied to a pole having some burly employee of the Sheriff whack him around that is causing him pain. He can't tell how long he has been down here, in this dungeon that holds nothing but awful memories, but he knows that it is several hours at least. And for the majority of that time he has been undergoing what Gisbourne described as "softening up". He had disliked the sound of that when the oily man had said it to his captor. He finds that he dislikes it even more now that he has been experiencing its effects.

And yet, he can't help the gnawing suspicion that, despite the fact he is bleeding from the nose, unable to see out of a rapidly swelling eye, and nursing at least one cracked rib, it is the fact that no one has come for him that bothers him most.

After all, surely they have noticed that he is gone? Wouldn't it be a little obvious when Much and Robin return to the camp that he is not with them? Surely they realise that he was just blowing off some steam this morning? Robin isn't stupid enough to think that he was resigning or anything was he? It wasn't the first time Allan had butted heads with a member of the gang over where their proceeds ended up, and he had never been left unforgiven before.

Of course he reflected, it was usually Will whom he was butting heads with. Will who seemed to understand him as well or better than he understood himself. Will who accepted him for who he was, realised that being raised with nothing had given him an awareness of material possessions that he could never shake.

Robin and Much were a whole different kettle of fish to be spouting his ideas too. Something he maybe should have considered before stalking off to the pub.

He is doing everything in his power to think positively, but this is getting harder and harder. His side throbs, blood is tickling the side of his face, and his shoulders are screaming for relief. A tiny, somewhat desperate, part of his mind almost wishes Gisbourne's friend with fists the size of several small towns was back in here, stalking around him as though he were prey, because at least then there would be something to distract him from that fact that no one has come yet.

He tries not to think of Tom, who would have sat in these same dungeons, waiting for a rescue that never came. How long did his brother keep expecting them to save him? Was he strung up and "softened" too? Did he give up hope sitting in a cell, aching all over? Or was it only later, strung from a noose, feet dangling, breath not coming (and didn't Allan remember that feeling as though it was only yesterday) that he finally accepted that nobody could save him from his fate?

Allan doesn't want to die alone, the way his brother did.

Allan doesn't want to die.

He also doesn't want to lose faith in Robin. It has taken him a long time to trust the gang as much as he does now. This is because trust is something that is somewhat against his nature, will always be against his nature no matter how much time he spends with the gang. But it has been getting easier lately. He accepts the people around him, accepts that they like (love?) him for who he is, and will always do their best to keep him safe, keep him whole. He knows this because he would do the same for any of them.

And yet, hanging here from this pole, waiting and hurting, he finds trust ebbing away, dripping as though from a leaking bucket. Perhaps he has been misreading the signs all along?

Do they know he is gone and simply not care?

He wakes to a cool cloth on his face. He is not in the dungeons anymore, this he knows without even needing to open his eyes. The desperate wails of lost souls don't echo around him here. Nor is it cold and dank. There is something soft underneath him, though he cannot place what, and his hand is wrapped in a slack warm grip.

He opens his eyes and moves with a moan, his body is stiff and unresponsive, but he wants to know what is going on, and apparently the only way to call attention to himself is to appear awake.

In an instant his gaze is met with a pair of eyes, the worry reflected in them changing to elation.

"We were worried" says Will, a smile piercing his face as he retracts his hand quickly. It is clear that he has been asleep, keeping a vigil.

There is only a second or two before Djaq has poked her head around the corner. She looks exhausted, and Allan suspects that she too has been sitting by his bedside, and that she had only ducked out for a moment.

"You were unconscious when we found you" Will explains.

Allan, still groggy, can only remember snippets, pain, and an overwhelming feeling of betrayal.

"What took you so long? I kept hoping you would come."

Will looks away at the floor, guilt seeping into his every movement, Djaq frowns sympathetically. It is Much, walking towards his beside, who answers him, his tone defensive.

"Well excuse me if there are a lot of pubs in Nottingham! We had to search each one to make sure you weren't in any of them before we could even be sure that you had been captured! And then there was the small matter of the pack of guards chasing us, and the nasty fight we got into with them as we fought our way down to the dungeons! And then Will couldn't whittle after his hand got cut, so we had to think of another way into your cell. And when you add in Robin being captured and the Sheriff having a sister and pit full of snakes…it certainly wasn't the easiest rescue we've ever had to make!"

Much has said all of this in the space of about a second, and Allan is struggling to keep up with it all. Robin captured? Pit of snakes? What has gone on today that he has missed.

Djaq, ever the peace maker, takes up the chair that Will had been occupying by his bed, and collects his hand in hers.

"We are sorry it took so long Allan. There really is no excuse. But the most important thing to recognise is that we did come. You are back with us now."

He takes this as good advice. And when later that evening, as he is standing almost steadily on his feet, head still throbbing, but the rest of him basically ok, Little John starts bellowing on about how they are all Robin Hood, Allan finds himself meeting Will's quirked eyebrow, and joining in as loudly as the rest of them.

Mmmmm. That did not turn out at all like I wanted it too. Isn't that always the way that stories go? Silly things.

This story has four more (as yet unwritten) chapters to come. Wish me luck!

Reviews please!