Robin stirred as the morning light filtered through the trees bathing the camp in sunshine, he could hear Much preparing breakfast nearby, what time was it?

He tried to sit up, his side ached and he could feel a thick bandage wrapped around his middle, he grunted quietly.

"Morning" Much appeared almost instantly, the usual happy smile plastered across his mouth "How are you feeling?" he asked adjusting the bedding so that his master could be comfortable.

"What happened?" the leader of the outlaws wanted to know, everything was hazy, he remembered something about a carriage but then nothing.

"Er, you were sick but Tuck made you better. So we can make plans to get the sheriff's…"

"Wait, I was sick" Robin held up his hand for silence.

Much nodded quickly, staring at the floor, he should have known Robin wouldn't just accept that he was better.

"Tuck said he thought you were behaving differently for a few days, and then when you missed the target, you know 'cause you were trying to get the lead rider off his horse to give us a chance to get the gold we wondered what had happened. We found you on the floor writhing in agony and we knew you were sick, Tuck had to cut you to make you better, something about bad humours accumulating and if we had done nothing you would have died."

Robin nodded slowly allowing the information to sink in, he remembered now, standing in the tree, waiting for the perfect opportunity to fire the arrow with the rope attached to dislodge the guard from his horse. The ensuing panic would give the gang chance to gain the upper hand on the soldiers and take the gold but just as he had pulled back the string and taken aim he had again been crippled with pain and had fired wildly into the forest, falling from the tree onto the floor. He remembered shouts, faces blurred by the tears in his eyes and being carried back to camp. He'd overheard Tuck explaining that he needed the other's to trust him. That he needed to treat Robin. He remembered Much's hands on his shoulders, the gag being forced between his lips and the ex-servant telling him everything would be ok. There had been another weight on his legs, from the strength it had to have been John. More pain, something cold against his skin and then he could feel blood running down his side, he had thought he'd been injured, something that had happened on the battlefield, that he was still in the Holy lands fighting for King Richard. He'd felt light-headed then and allowed his eyes to drift shut, in some sort of dream state he'd felt a tugging sensation as if someone were pinching his stomach and pulling upwards. Then he had woken up and Much was there telling him he had been sick.

Robin rubbed the sleep from his eyes and carefully stood up, he felt a twinge of pain as he moved but then just a slight throbbing, nothing he couldn't handle.

"Where are you going?" Much asked, he knew better than to try and keep Robin in bed if he wanted to get up but he still felt concerned that his friend and former master was trying to do too much too soon. He had no idea what Tuck had done last night and yet his gut told him it was something major and that the young man should be resting.

"Tuck saved my life. I think I owe him a thank you" Robin smiled walking towards the main camp where the others were sitting.

"I see you are feeling better Robin" Tuck smiled, pleased to see the young Lord back on his feet."

"Much tells me I have you to thank for that." Robin replied

"No Robin, you have Him to thank for your survival, I am simply an instrument to his desires. Clearly you please him despite your disregard for the laws of the people."

Robin tried to sit on the log but even bending slightly was uncomfortable so he settled against a near-by tree instead, glad to be alive.

A week later and the group were preparing to raid the sheriff's private stores for food, water and gold for the people of Nottingham and the surrounding villages. The wound on Robin's stomach had healed leaving a small pink scar - another one for the -collection – and Tuck was happy that he was fit enough for the mission.

Allan doubled over and groaned; everyone looked up wondering if they would again have to dice with death.

"It's not that!" Allan quickly spoke up "It was that rotten rabbit we had last night, it's given me indigestion"

"That rabbit was not rotten!" Much quickly interjected feeling hurt, he did his best to feed them.

Walking ahead Robin heard the bickering and smiled, everything was truly back to normal.