||the[SHADOWS].bring.the___starlight, Ickle William

It had been almost four whole months since that fateful day.

Since the day little Tom, his baby brother Thomas A Dale went to the hangman's noose.

Allan had been hurt before, everyone has been hurt in thier lives - and usually more than once. But, even though Tom had done him so much wrong in his life, his death was the deepest pain he had ever felt. Ever. They had been close once, Allan and Tom. Somewhat close in age, similar interests - and talent. Both boys were great pick pockets and liars - Tom a better pickpocket and Allan a better liar. Well, perhaps it wouldn't be right to say a better 'liar' persay, a more vivid imagination is more like it. Tom would get them into trouble, and Allan would get them back out. Simple as that.

Until Tom left him flat. Took his horse, took his sword, took his clothes. Left him for dead.

And when they were reunited, even though Allan smacked him a few times - he welcomed his younger sibling with open arms. And Tom made far too many mistakes, even though Allan gave him all the guidance he should have needed. He betrayed Allan yet again, and the gang. They stole supplies, attacked Knighton, and the made a novices mistake trying to take on Lucky whatever his name was. And Tom and his two cronies were sentenced to hang. Everything was set to save them. Everything was in place. Perfect, planned, precise.

And then it all went wrong.

They had been hanged an hour before the gang had even gotten there. Tom had died thinking that Allan would come for him, would save him, would fight for him. And then he died. Alone. Allan couldn't help but feel what Tom must have felt, betrayed, hurt, and oh so alone in the world. Did Tom regret his deeds in his final moments? Did he try to say he was sorry? Allan didn't know, he couldn't know. Allan hadn't been there. He didn't get to say Goodbye. AS much as he hated to admit it, he would give anything to have Tom back, to hold him and hug him, to smack him upside the head and try to make right.

Walking along he road, it was raining lightly, perfect weather for his outting. Well, not perfect, fitting, rather. Most of the way Allan had stared at the ground, he had started walking aimlessly trying to vent after a rather heated arguement with Much. The fact that he had headed in this direction was purely by chance. Perhaps it was his sadness that had ed him here. Glancing up he laid eyes on the City and stopped in his tracks. He breathed in deeply, and then exhaled. No turning back now. He was heading to the mass graves along the outter wall where they burried the men who had been hung.

This was where he would find Tom.

When he finally made his way there, he stared at the mounds of dirt. Allan had no clue which one that Tom was burried in for there were no markers. Everything seemed so dull and grey here. As if all the hope that had once existed in this plot of land had been removed. A single tear rolled gently down Allan's cheek as he observed the different mounds. It was heartbreaking. His blue eyes flitted over them as if searching for which one held Tom, looking for some visible sign that indicate his where abouts. But there was nothing. Not a thing.

Allan fell to his knees and the scooped up some of the dirt into his hand and then let it fall. Everything was so easily made and the destroyed - and life was no different. Why? Allan didn't understand. Fighting back tears, he sat back to be more comfortable and simply waited for something. Perhaps it was for the rain to come, or maybe his death - Allan wasn't sure which.

But it was so unfair that he would never know exactly where Tom was burried.

Will was use to walking around in Nottingham hidden while he did deliveries. Though having Allan for a best friend probably helped with his skills of not being seen. His cloak was now few shades of darker brown due to the sudden down pour of water. Something Will was also use to living in England pretty much his whole life.

All it ever did was rain until winter came and it snowed. Winter was probably one of Will's favorite time of the year. Luke and himself would end up playing in it at some point after doing all their chores. Their mother would have to pull them by the shirts to get them back into the house.

Shrugging lightly water droplets came off of the brown cloak making it not feel as heavy. Walking through the Nottingham town door he started to make his way over the small bridge. But stopped when his hazel eyes caught a noticeable figure sitting down near the burial grounds.

Frowning his brows he turned on his heels and made his way towards graveyard. Pulling his hood more to his face just to make sure no guards saw his face. Once he got close enough to the figure he tilted his head a little trying to see who it was. Soon as he noticed it was Allan he sighed and stepped a little close to his friend. "Allan? are you alright?" he said leaning down to the older outlaw.

Allan did not glance up, he knew who it was. Will. His best mate, and Allan would even go so far as to say that Will was like a brother. Will was only a year or two younger than Tom had been - and ten times more loyal. Losing ill would be like losing Tom all over again - perhaps even harder. Shaking his head, he brushed the thought from his mind. What a horrible thing to think. Losing anyone else would make Allan go into a sort of depression he would be likely never to return from.

"Allan? are you alright?"

Allan sniffled once, but did not wipe the tears from his face. He was not embarassed - not for crying infront of Will. His friend would probably be able to understand how he felt. Will had a younger brother Luke, whom they both almost hung with. Allan couldn't bare to ever see Luke die, especially not by hanging. He never wanted Will to go through what he had. Never. No one derserved the pain he held in side. Not even Guy or the Sheriff - okay, maybe the Sheriff. But that was a very big maybe. The pain was unbareable. How did people survive this kind of emotion? It was terrible!

"Of course I'm bloody well not alright... What kind of question is that Will?"

It was then that those bright blue eyes looked up to meet Will's. But he seemed changed. Sadder, his eyes weren't full of curiousity and mischeif as usual. No, they were dull and full of tears, almost hopeless in a way. It was like that day so long ago all over again - but worse. So much worse. Sure, Allan had never been overly optimistic about things - but he was certainly never sad, always with a smirk on his face and a wink in his eye. A curious and almost pesky man. A funny man. But not today. Breaking his gaze from Will's, he looked over the graves again.

"I don't even know which one he is burried in."

Allan's voice cracked - not that he was slightly embrassed by. "How would you feel if on that day Robin had not been able to save Luke. His arrow had missed. Luke had been so sure that Robin was coming. He had come - he heard you fall and then me, and that boy. He waited for that arrow - that one single arrow that would save him as well. But, it never came. Imagine his sadness, the betrayal he would feel in that final moment. He would die sad. No one deserves to die sad. And you, you would survived him. You cannot blame Robin, he tried. You can't blame yourself, for, what could you do? You tried to raise him as you should, you tried to teach him right - and yet, there he is."

He didn't know what to say. Allan couldn't continue, he didn't want Will to fear for Luke. Luke was safe - well, as safe as anyone could be in these times. But how else could he liken his pain to Will?

"Of course I'm bloody well not alright... What kind of question is that Will?"

The younger outlaw frowned slightly before turning his head and looked at the several mounds of dirt. It took the younger boy a moment before he figured out what was wrong with his friend. Allan had come to Nottingham to find Tom. Will didn't know what it was like to lose a brother but he sure knew how it felt to lose someone really close to you.

His mother had died just so himself and Luke could eat. He still could remember the nights when ever they would have food his mother would always say "I am not hungry" or "I am not feeling well feed the boys". When Allan turned his head and looked at him Will could both see and feel the sadness in the other outlaw.

"I don't even know which one he is buried in."

Looking at the mounds of dirt for a second he pushed his brows together. That sadly was the downside of being hanged. They didn't care where they put your body, they put you were where ever they wanted and didn't care to mark where your body lay for grieving families. Sighing he sat down beside Allan and crossed his legs his damp brown cloak getting dirty slightly because of the muddy ground under him.

"How would you feel if on that day Robin had not been able to save Luke. His arrow had missed. Luke had been so sure that Robin was coming. He had come - he heard you fall and then me, and that boy. He waited for that arrow - that one single arrow that would save him as well. But, it never came. Imagine his sadness, the betrayal he would feel in that final moment. He would die sad. No one deserves to die sad. And you, you would survived him. You cannot blame Robin, he tried. You can't blame yourself, for, what could you do? You tried to raise him as you should, you tried to teach him right - and yet, there he is."

Will never thought of that what if Robin had missed. What if Luke had died even though he himself was saved. Down casting his eyes he tugged at his cloak from under him. Just the thought of Luke dying was like his mother death but much worse. Turning his glance from the ground and back to the mounds of now wet dirt he swallowed what felt like a lump in his thought.

Closing his eyes he shook his head the last thing he wanted to think about was Luke dying. Even if he was safe in Scarborough with his Auntie Annie and their father. What stopped the Sheriff or Guy finding them and bringing them back to Nottingham. The younger outlaw turned his head and looked at Allan "I would feel the same as you a suppose" the brunette outlaw said with sadness in his voice. "But I know that even if he had died then I would live on carrying his memory with me" he said with a sad smile before looking down again "And thats all that matters".

Allan sniffled again, a tear or two running down alongside his nose.

Why did sad things have to happen? Allan, no matter how hard he tried could never quite grasp the use or importance of politics. In fact, the reason he was helping Robin was almost beyond him. But, when he watched Robin speak, when he watched him fight, when he watched him save innocent men's lives - even no so innocent men's lives like his own - he saw something. A certain charm and charisma. Passion and kindness. Was that not worth fighting for? Just in being around Robin he had seemingly changed. He 'believed' in things. In rights, in justice - that didn't mean that he didn't put his talents to good use but rather that he was on a track, and the right one. He was becoming respectable in a way. Fighting for a cause other than his own. It felt good - no - it felt great! And Allan simply wished he could have led Tom to the same path.

But, as they say, you can lead a horse to water - but you cannot make it drink.

"I would feel the same as you a suppose."

Allan gave a short and rather dark huff of a laugh. "But I know that even if he had died then I would live on carrying his memory with me - And thats all that matters."

Glancing up at Will he replied, "No - it isn't the only thing that matters."

Shaking his head, Allan looked back over the graves. He felt obligated almost to find which one Tom was in. For his own sanity if not for anything else. "We are at war - that's what truely matters. I guess I never really realized how deep we were in until then. Tom is a casualty of war, he is. They all are who have died. Lampert, Tom, Joe, even that little boy Matthew."

Shaking his head again, he then brushed a sleeve under each eye and then looked up at Will, "I'm just afraid of who will be next."

"I'm just afraid of who will be next."

Turning his head Will caught Allan's looking at him "It won't be the gang Allan" he said with a small smile. "We are way to careful and I don't think we would die without a fight" he said with a nod and looked back at the dirt mounds. "Maybe tomorrow when its not raining we can come and look for Tom" Will said not looking at Allan but at the dirt mounds. "He should have a decent resting place so you can visit him" Will would probably end up making a coffin much like he helped his Dad build one for his mothers body.

"I know a good place" he said turning his head and looking at Allan. "Just a little ways from Locksley, my mom's there so he would have some company" smiling lightly he stood up and put out a hand to Allan to help him up. "Come on, Robin is probably wondering where in heaven's name we are" even though Robin wouldn't say it he did but Will knew that outlaw leader worried about all of his men.

"We are way to careful and I don't think we would die without a fight."

Allan opened his mouth to argue with Will, but shook his head instead and sighed. If the Sheriff pulled another 'hanging an hour early' trick, who knew what could happen? But, Allan was sick of playing devil's advocate and so he gave it a rest. His heart skipped a beat as Will spoke again:

"Maybe tomorrow when its not raining we can come and look for Tom - He should have a decent resting place so you can visit him."

As much kindness as he had seen over the past few months, each and every single time someone did something, without fail, Allan found himself shocked - and touched. It simply amazed him that anoyone could acre for anyone else in these times,find it in their heart to help their fellow man simply because he was their fellow man. Even though Will was Allan's best mate, he had never been more grateful for the boy. Will truely was the brother that Allan never had - as sad as it was. He had become more of a brother to Allan than Tom ever had been. That saddened Allan slightly, that he and his brother could not be as he and Will were, but he was happy for someone. Especially someone as thoughtful and caring as Will - even if Will did care about the same woman he did.

"I would like that - very much." This time he fought the tears that came to his eyes, for they were not the tears of mourning, but tears of hope. He had seen them so often in the eyes of the people that they gang had helped - but Allan had never known them himself until now.

"I know a good place, just a little ways from Locksley, my mom's there so he would have some company."

Will's mother - Allan had forgotten. She had been a wonderful woman, or so Allan had heard. She had starved so that her sons could eat, perhaps it was she who passed along her charity and love to her eldest son Will. Either way, Allan could not be more grateful to have met and befriended young Will Scarlett.

"Come on, Robin is probably wondering where in heaven's name we are."

Allan reached for Will's hand, and then hesitated. What was that noise? It sounded like... Boots against stone. Turning to look up at the wall to which their backs were turned, Allan saw their source and his bright blue eyes widened. Oh... Dear. Forgetting Will's hand, Allan pushed himself up off the ground. As he got up and started running, Allan remarked, "I'm not being funny but head for the hills!" Along the castle wall there were several archers perched and ready with their bows. So, they had been spotted. That was the one thing that Allan hated about being a 'celebrity', everyone knew exactly what you looked like! As they ran, they were nearly, or so Allan hoped, out of range when he heard a bow snap. Someone had shot, turning around to look as he ran, he seemed to stop breatheing. No, he wasn't going to let it happen!

"Will!" Checking the younger outlaw out of the way, Allan heard it before he felt it. Shunck. That's the noise an arrow makes when it lodges in your back. "AAGH!" Allan fell over, and laid on the ground a moment. What the bloody hell had just happened!? Laying almost face down on the ground, he reached back and felt the arrow - oh, that couldn't be good. His arm then fell limp, the pain was too much. Allan couldn't think straight and closed his eyes, breathing in the damp smell of the earth.

"I'm not being funny but head for the hills!"

The sudden terror in his friends voice made him blink before turning around. His soft hazel eyes catching a glimpse of several bows trained in on himself and Allan. Turning quickly on his heels he speed up trying to catch up Allan who had ran off a little ways in front of him. Hearing a bow snap made Will ran a little fast knowing that the arrow was aimed at him due to him being back the furtherest back from Allan.

Next thing he knew he felt some one shove him out of the way rather hard. Making the younger outlaw hit the dirt just as hard as the shove. Hearing someone scream out in pain made him raise his head from the dirt floor and look behind him. "Allan!" panic shot its self through the brunette making him stand up and rush towards his now fallen friend. Barely missing a couple arrows himself a long the way.

"We gotta move before they come down" reaching down he carefully picked Allan up being careful not to touch the arrow. "Put all your weight on me" wrapping one of Allan's arms around his neck he wrapped his own around the waist of Allan. Looking back for just a second he sighed before racing towards Sherwood Forest. Hearing Allan moan and groan as they entered the forest wall made him look at him "I know it hurts, you gotta hold on. Djaq will know what to do" Will said with a hint of happiness in his voice.

"Allan!"

What had he just said? What had he just been saying? Who was going to be the next casualty, right? Was he not right? Bloody hell being shot hurt. Allan would have never guessed that he would be the next to be harmed in some fashion. Not wanting to move for fear of being in more pain, Allan simply laid there. No one would shoot what they thought was dead. So, Allan played dead. That was until Will started to pick him up. Allan protested as pain shot through his whole body. 'Jesus Christ', he thought, 'bloody hell'.

"We gotta move before they come down."

Allan had been somewhat content with lying on the ground at the present moment. At least he had been in less pain than he was now! But then the cheeky outlaw realized what Will was saying. At least now he was alive and not dead, which he would surely be if the guards caught him. Will put Allan's arm over his shoulders and he could feel the younger man's arm around his waist. Well, this was certainly interesting.... He went to brush some grass off the side of his face with his other arm but yelled out in pain. Okay, so he wasn't going to use his other arm. That was fine. He could live without it.

"I know it hurts, you gotta hold on. Djaq will know what to do."

Had Allan's teeth not been grinding against each other than he would have protested, but the pain he was in at that particular moment in time was a bit more than he had bargained for. Allan liked Djaq, as a friend, as a man, as a woman. Whatever, he liked her in a lot of ways - and that was the reason he did not wish for her to see him like this. Here he was whimpering and groaning about a little arrow. She had had that acid stuff, or whatever it was, poured onto her skin, and she had merely yelled out - or so he said. But Allan believed her.

No, he would not have her revel in his pain and babyishness. No way, no how!

Once Will had gotten them to somewhat legitimate shelter, Allan got away from him nd laid down over a large rock on his stomach. "Aggh....! Get this thing offa me! Get it off, get it off, get it off!"

""Aggh....! Get this thing offa me! Get it off, get it off, get it off!""

"Flopping around like a fish out of water is not going to help it Allan" the younger outlaw said with an eye roll. "Hold still for second" reaching down he wrapped his hand around the arrow and held on to the middle of it tightly. He gave Allan a small worried glance and blocked out Allan's screams of pain as he pulled the arrow out as quickly as he could.

Which thankfully came out a lot easier then it did when it went in. "Your lucky, it only hit bone and didn't pierce it" he said with a half smile before dropping the arrow to the forest ground. "Thanks by the way" he said with a tiny nod while looking at him. "Even though it was stupid to do it thanks for pushing me out of the way" he had been shot before with an arrow when he sixteen.

Luke was playing around with bow his father had made him and he used Will for target practice. The arrow had hit him in the arm but it wasn't that bad. He healed in only a couple days but he knew he didn't want to go through that again. But he knew if Allan hadn't of pushed him out of the way he might of ended up with more then one arrow in his back.

"Flopping around like a fish out of water is not going to help it Allan."

Allan stopped 'flopping' to turn his head and glare at Will, "Well, you aren't exactly helping either!" Resting back down against the rock, he turned away from Will. Why didn't the pain just fade like ther wounds after awhile? No, this one was horrid, it stung, it ached, it did like eighty things all at once, and none of them pleasant.

"Hold still for second...."

Allan's brows furrowed. He certainly did NOT like the way Will had said that - not at all. "Wait a tick, what exactly do you...?" But Allan never finished the question. He felt Will's hand close around the arrow. "Oh, no no nooooooo-agh!"

Yelling out, he felt as though Will was trying to kill him. Was it really the only way to get rid of that damn arrow? Really? But, as quickly as it had started, the pain was gone. Allan felt slightly better, but there ws still this ache, just below his right shoulder. He tried to move his arm and still found that it was rather painful to do so. Great, if he needed to shoot a bow anytime soon or wield a sword - he was done for. Rolling over on the rock, he sat up and perched atop it, half glaring at Will.

"Thanks by the way - Even though it was stupid to do it thanks for pushing me out of the way."

Allan smirked slightly, "Well, I'll agree with that. I shoulda dodged that bloody arrow myself. I'm just not as quick as I used to be I suppose." With his left hand, Allan rubbed the back of his neck almost sheepishly. "You're welcome though, I guess. Just don't expect it to be a usual thing. You've used up your one arrow - and don't expect me to not use this against you...."

Wagging a finger at Will he started planning it all, 'Oh Will, I don't feel like being watch today - I still feel weary from that arrow.'

" You're welcome though, I guess. Just don't expect it to be a usual thing. You've used up your one arrow - and don't expect me to not use this against you...."

"I would not expect anything else, but I think the next arrow that comes your way it will not hit its target" smiling he sat down across from him. "I meant what I said earlier about helping you find Tom and putting him to rest the right way" the younger outlaw said raising his head and looking at his older friend. "I guess we will just have to go at night so no guards see us this time" he said with a small shrug before picking the arrow up from the ground, twirled it around in his figures.

"Oh Will, I don't feel like being watched today - I still feel weary from that arrow.'

Rolling his eyes he shook his head "I am still going to tell Djaq about it, the last thing anyone wants is it to get infected and you catching fever" he said flashing the older outlaw a small glance. Back when he was living in Locksley some of the villagers had gotten sick. And the last thing he wanted was Allan to go through that.

"I meant what I said earlier about helping you find Tom and putting him to rest the right way."

Allan gave him a grateful nod. At first he though it might have simply been something said to make him feel better. But, after knowing Will for the past few months, Allan knew the younger man was good to his word. He would do as he said he would. As bad as Tom had been, and unloyal, he still deserved a proper grave, a proper funeral. Will was goin to give him that. What a wonderful gift.

"I guess we will just have to go at night so no guards see us this time."

Giving a bit of a laugh, Allan sat back on his good arm, his left arm, and looked up at the treetops, "Yeah - wouldn't want to lose the use of my other arm, eh?"

He still felt a dull pain in his right shoulder that didn't seem to be giving him any signs it would be going away anytime soon. Allan found himself hoping even more than usual that the Sheriff or Guy didn't happen to pop in for a visit - or that Robin decided to go on another suicide mission.

"I am still going to tell Djaq about it, the last thing anyone wants is it to get infected and you catching fever."

Back to glaring at Will, he made to object - but didn't. He was right. Getting sick or dieing was not something that Allan wanted in the cards. Being shot had also been one of those on that list, but, it was either he or Will. And Allan was not going to let it be Will. The possibility of dieing hadn't even crossed his mind. But, if he had been only a few inches over... Allan didn't even want to think about it. He just hoped that Will realized how much he really did care about him. Most didn't know, but Allan really did have a bit of a sentimental side - and it was only Will and ocassionally Djaq who saw it. But they seemed to be the only ones who would understand. Imagine if he had confided in Much. Allan shuddered to think of it - that man was a bloody idiot. His heart was in the right place, yes - but Allan had no idea where his head was.

"If you're going to tell Djaq, stick to the basics - alright? I got shot and point to the wound. No elaborate stories."