Different Directions

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognizable ;)

Summary: Robin suddenly finds himself in a different world, a twist of time, in where he did not travel the Holy Land. While it gives him what he wants the most, a life with Marian, he soon discovers that life in Nottinghamshire is far worse than he had ever imagined. Being used as a pawn by the sheriff, Robin must find a way to right the wrongs, but furthermore try to discover what happened to his previous life, or if this new reality always was the way things were...

Notes: For those of you waiting for an update to 'It's Not Easy', I hope to have another chapter up soon. Meanwhile, this is the 'reveal' for the BigBang I have been working on throughout the last few months. It still is technically a work in progress, but I'm hoping to keep up with regular updates.

:)

Chapter One

Night in Sherwood Forest, at its best, was a calm and inviting atmosphere. And on the best of nights, the moon shone brightly in the sky, watching over the inhabitants that lived there. There was no arguing: it was a place for one to find solitude, and more importantly, peace.

Yet for Robin, that was something he would never find, or so he believed. Nearly half a year had gone by now since Marian's death, and with each passing day it became harder, not easier, to deal with. While his men had been supportive of him, there was little help they could offer. How could he explain to them something they would never understand?

Much had never had any family; he had made that quite clear on several occasions. The closest thing he had to a family was the few outlaws that resided in the forest now, and even then the man didn't particularly like all of them there. Least of all Allan.

Robin couldn't blame them… Allan had been quick with his tongue, having betrayed them all. Robin was not a forgiving man when it came to truth and loyalty, and the reason Allan still remained with them was because of the fact that Robin no longer cared. Gisborne's former 'puppet' more in likely took that fact for granted, but that was his own fault, not Robin's.

For John… the man might understand. He, after all, did have a wife and a son… at least he had been able to spend some time with her. At least she was still alive…

Robin let out a sigh, closing his eyes. He couldn't continue like this; it was slowly tearing him apart. The grief simply refused to go away, and it consumed him more with each passing moment. One day… some day, he wouldn't be able to go on.

Robin hardly saw his men as it was, and no longer went with them to make the drops. The only interest he had was in traveling to the castle, or to Locksley, hoping for a chance of finding Gisborne or Vaizey alone. It was a futile hope, of course. They were always surrounded by more guards, consolidating their position. They knew that he would be after them, and they were ready. Then there were his men.

He wouldn't admit it, but that was the true reason both Gisborne and the sheriff were even still alive. They had been the force that had held him back from doing anything reckless. Revenge had been the only thing on his mind, but not even he could say no to the desperate pleas of his men. Or to thoughts of Marian.

'You keep fighting for me'

He had tried…a promise made to the one he loved as she died, and the only thing he could offer was that he had tried. If only she knew…

His eyes turned upward, watching the moon glisten in the night sky. Perhaps she did know, perhaps she was watching over him. Did she feel the grief, he wondered? Could she possibly know what it felt like to lose her? To never have been able to hold her, and love her as a proper husband should? He watched; saddened as the light of the moon began to disappear, as the clouds began to drift overhead. Now not even the moon would grant him any company.

But the footsteps could be heard even as the rain began to fall and Robin turned to meet his men as they came up behind him. Without Will and Djaq it seemed as though their group was almost nothing. So small and so quiet, the very heart of the group gone. Or was it his own pain that was speaking?

"We go?"

John had been the one to break the silence, whereas Much and Allan had waited quietly. The change he knew had been hardest on Much, his loyal friend. Robin knew he had shied away from him immensely, but there was little he could do to change that matter. How long would it be before the man left as well, either by incident or his own will? Robin could not handle much more pain in the aspect of loss, and felt more secure in sticking to his own resources, and handling his feelings on his own. That was why he had kept to himself; there could be no pain if he did not care.

Still he could see the fatigue in all of them; they too had difficulty sleeping, and had been wandering, seemingly lost for as long as Robin had been. Returning to the camp was always hard for Robin, for he would see who would not be there. Though it had only been for a short time, it had been an unimaginable bliss to be so near Marian, to have, even for a mere moment, pretended it was real, and he wondered what life would have been like if only he had taken that chance.

Now that bedroll would never be filled again. It was a despairing thought, but one that was true no matter how he tried to change it. Slowly he nodded, knowing that his men were still waiting for an answer. They would not leave him behind on their own will, he knew. Sometimes loyalty hurt as much as betrayal.

"I need a moment," he told them quietly.

"Are you sure?" Much asked.

Once again Robin nodded, forcing a sad smile. "I will be there, my friend."

The look on his face suggested that he wasn't all that convinced, but tonight the weather was on his side. With the rain the remainder of the group wasn't willing to stay for much longer, and Robin found himself alone once again. Having a choice, he would rather stay here until the morning broke, or maybe even forever. Marian consumed his thoughts, and it was difficult to think of anything else.

It was the same with the war… but with the war he had been able to push it out of his mind. There was no need for him to remember it, yet he could not do the same with Marian. He could not just forget her, but he could not speak of her either. Not without coming undone, the only thing that was saving his sanity was the simple fact that he had kept everything inside thus far. If he could do it long enough… eventually the feeling would fade. It had to… didn't it?

It was the cry that first reached his ears, pulling him from his trance. The rain now fell in heavy streaks, soaking his clothes, and dripping from his hair. The sound itself was an inconstant wail, and could hardly be heard over the brewing storm. But it was there, unmistakably.

Robin turned towards it, his eyes searching the darkness. His men had already returned to the camp; there were no signs of them, and the crying continued. Gradually Robin worked his way to his feet, stretching his legs, trying to work the stiffness out of them. He had been sitting there for so long now…

In the darkness, with the coming storm, navigating through the forest wasn't the best of ideas. It could be treacherous during the day; Robin and his men had found that out more than once now, but thankfully none of the falls they had taken had been too devastating. Then again, maybe their bodies had simply become used to the precarious life they lived out here in the woods.

With slow, deliberate movements Robin made his way towards the sound, now heading east to where the forest began to thicken. He had no torch to see by, and so used his hands, feeling from one tree to the next. They grew close enough now for this very method to work, but it wouldn't always, he knew. The sound of running water caught his ears, and he knew now where he was.

There was a steep ravine, not far from their camp that collected with water during the winter months. It was a small creek, hardly a river, but more than a gentle stream that would overflow as gravity took over, drawing the moisture to the very bottom. It was a fabulous source of water for them all, the stream drying up in the summer to leave only small pockets of water that were easy to collect from, and fill their flasks.

Robin also knew how treacherous it was to travel along here, even more so in the dead of the night. He could remember the times spent between the group working their way around on the long side, to where the ravine went down in a gentle slope rather than a sharp drop. Edging as close as he dared, Robin held fast to a branch of a tree, gazing down into the void below.

There was nothing to be seen, but the cry could still be heard, the wailing coming in short bursts. Then there was something else, hardly to be heard over the first cry, but Robin's ears were sharp, and his mind even sharper.

"Who is there?"

He had called out, projecting his voice as much as he could as the first clash of thunder roared over him. His cry or the crash of thunder only provoked a greater response, drowning out any kind of communication. So he called again, this time a small smile crossing his lips as he heard the response.

"Help…my baby…we fell!"

This time a flash of lightning shot across the skies, chasing away the darkness for a brief moment. Within that short time Robin had been able to see the broken carriage at the bottom, split open from the fall. How they ever survived it, Robin could not be sure. Another cry of thunder, and he waited till it died down before calling back out.

Carefully he backed up. Robin knew he would have to go around, and even then it would still be dangerous. The rocks about the edge were slick now that they were drenched, and twice he almost fell. Once on firm footing again, Robin brought his fingers to his lips, letting out a sharp whistle. With any luck his men would hear, and respond within a short time. They were probably already looking for him, Robin's promise to follow soon well gone. This time loyalty was on his side. Robin hoped it was so; he could not rescue them on his own, but neither could he just abandon woman and child.

The water would be rising quickly now with the onset of the rain, and with the fall they had taken there was sure to be some injuries. The clamor of the storm had shielded most of her voice, and Robin could not judge her condition from sound alone. He needed to get down there.

Another stop, another sharp whistle, Robin praying one of them would hear. He would wait as long as he could, trusting to do more with help, but he could not wait forever. Slowly he made his way around, listening to the fading cries from the child below.

By now he was nearly on his hands and knees, keeping low to the ground as he worked his way across it. Here the ground should start sloping downwards, leading him towards the bottom. Again lightning streaked across the sky, giving him a momentary visual, but it was enough to determine where he was. Robin pushed forward, calling out again as the thunder rolled by. He was encouraged by the response from the woman, and braced himself against a tree as he began his descent.

Leaves coated the ground thickly, water trapped in-between their layers, making for dangerous grounds, his feet continually sliding down the wet side. Robin relied heavily on his upper body strength, holding onto limbs and roots as he half walked, half slid down the side.

It was when he was halfway down that his worst fear was confirmed. Moving down he grasped a new root, letting gravity pull his weight down till he found another. But the weight was too much, and the fragile twig snapped, sending him down the side at an alarming speed. Blindly he shot his hands out, reaching and grasping for anything that would help him as he began to roll, instead of slide.

The layer of leaves that coated the ground helped to cushion his fall, but they also caused him to accelerate, causing little friction, and offering no hand or footholds as he fell. Time after time he reached out, coming back up with only a handful of leaves and mud. Then his hand snagged something solid, and his fingers wrapped about it tightly, bringing him to a gut-wrenching stop.

He silenced the cry of pain that threatened to cross his lips as his weight jarred on his shoulder unnaturally, bringing to it an unnatural burning warmth. Robin dug the toes of his boots into the drenched side, failing to get any good hold. It was two more tries before he succeeded, reaching up with his other hand to grab the protruding branch, and ease the weight off his now throbbing shoulder.

Quietly he laughed to himself, shaking his head as he caught his breath. That had been a little too close for comfort. Then he did something he normally did not allow himself to do. He rested, for a short a moment, in order to regain his courage.

That was something that had slipped away quickly after leaving the Holy Lands. He knew the promise he had made Marian, but he also knew the promise inside his own heart. He wasn't strong enough to fight without her. The thought scared him, shook him to the core as he clung to the side of the small valley, lost and desperate as a little child without his mother.

The mother and her child… Robin knew they needed help, and were counting on him despite his fears and worries. Slowly he nodded, and then started to move again, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. It was not broken, nor dislocated, for which he was lucky, otherwise he knew this rescue might be problematic. Yet this wasn't the only problem on his hands.

How exactly was he going to get them back up in all of this? There wasn't a way, he knew, logically. He would have to find them, get them high enough to avoid the rising waters until the storm had passed, and they would climb out in the morning. At the very least they wouldn't have to spend the night alone.

The chill of the water greeted him, signaling that he had reached the bottom, and confidently Robin let go, letting out a slight gasp as the water came up to his waist. Already the water had risen significantly, and would continue to do so. He had to move, and quickly.

Now down at the bottom he could hear them easily. Robin took care in wading across the deepened stream, the water brushing around him gently as it flowed. That was something to be thankful for, but even still Robin took his steps carefully, knowing that water could be your enemy as much as your friend.

With each step, however, he could feel the level of the water drop as he neared the other side. Soon Robin was hauling himself up onto dry banks… as dry as they could possibly be in such weather. The sky was lit up again, and Robin made his way quickly under the large rock outcropping near the broken carriage. It was the same rock he had been on top of several moments ago.

The whistle caught his ears, bringing a sudden smile to his lips. Robin returned one in the same fashion, calling up to his men with what had happened. It was brief, half-drowned out by the storm, but he knew his men well. There was no need to tell them what to do, they were already moving. Satisfied now, Robin stumbled under the rock, out of the rain to where the frightened woman sat, holding her baby tightly.

"It's alright," Robin reassured her as he drew closer. "What is your name?"

"Ann," she breathed, "my baby Mathew… are we going to die?"

Robin his shook head, smiling at her, "No."

He reached out, pressing the palm of his hand against her forehead, whispering quiet reassurances as she flinched. There was a cut there, and in the darkness it wasn't easy to tell the severity of it, but it didn't feel deep, and it had long ago stopped bleeding. "What happened?"

"We were…going to…to Clun, and the horses, the storm…they were spooked, they drew to close to the side…"

"You were not alone?"

Ann shook her head, letting out a cry. "Thomas, my husband…"

"Alright," Robin withdrew his hand, watching her. "It will be alright. My men and I will get you out of here, and see you safely to Clun. Do you have family there?"

"My aunt," she whispered softly. "She was expecting us tonight…she will be worried."

A soft thud sounded behind him, and Robin turned, barely seeing the rope that swayed in the air. His men were faster than he thought. "We are going now," he told her, "Let me see Mathew."

Instinctively she tightened up on the infant as he reached out, and he couldn't blame her. Having survived death and now confronted by a stranger, she wasn't going to be so entirely trusting at the first moment. "I need for you to go up first, I will be right behind you with him, you have my word."

"How…do I know that…your word is true?"

"I am Robin Hood," he told her, smiling.

She was quiet, save for the gentle sniffles, and finally she nodded. "I have heard…stories, about you. People, they trust you…and so will I."

The child began crying again as he left his mother's warm embrace, but Robin held him in a firm yet secure grasp, quieting the lad as he helped Ann to her feet. Shielding the baby from the onset of rain, Robin helped the young woman maneuver into a makeshift harness, calling up to his men that they were ready.

Robin watched as she was lifted slowly, until he could see her no more. But he could hear her voice, and he listened as his men worked to pull her up. Though he knew they were hurrying, Robin was beginning to worry. The water had still been rising, and now lapped at his ankles. He called up to his gang, moving against the wall as much as he could, still cradling Mathew in his arms.

More time passed, and it seemed as though the storm only grew fiercer. Robin knew these were the worst of nights, the nights they should be safely tucked away at camp, instead of trapped in the onslaught of the storm itself. As much as he hated these nights, he was now desperately wishing that he would live to see another.

And then the rope fell again. He could hear it splash into the water, and Robin wasted no time in moving out after it. The ties had been undone in order to free Ann, and Robin worked as best as he could to fashion another with his free hand, the water now at his knees.

He would have to settle with what he had. Slipping one foot into the jumbled knot, Robin grabbed the rope, shouting up an affirmative. As he was lifted, Robin used his free foot to push himself off the wall to avoid hitting it, holding Mathew close to his chest.

It had been a long drop, and coming up was slow going, but Robin couldn't wish for it to be much faster, not unless he wanted to risk harming the infant. Hard as it was now, he doubted speed would improve the matters. Then he felt the knot begin to slip. It was no longer a matter of preference.

He called the order up, trying to help propel himself upward by digging his free foot into the rocky wall. He could see the top now, the torches from his men glimmering brightly against the rain, chasing away the darkness. The knot was still slipping against his weight…if he could only hold on a little longer…

Then the knot gave way completely. The cries of his men intermixed with that of the mother, and Mathew's as he was jarred roughly. Feeling the change, Robin had done the last thing possible. He had let go of the rope, grabbing the rough surface instead. Hands grabbed onto him, barely reaching the sleeve of his shirt. Kicking out frantically, he managed to find the smallest of footholds, balancing his weight as he hoisted the infant up. "Take him," Robin cried.

They were able to reach him, and Robin let out a sigh of relief as Much wrapped his arms about the small bundle, pulling Mathew to safety. As for Robin, Allan still had him by the sleeve, but barely, and reached down with another hand, offering help. So was John, on the other side, and Robin reached out a hand, but quickly grabbed the ledge, as his feet slipped out under him.

Expecting to fall, he was quite surprised he didn't, Allan tightening his grip painfully. Robin winced at the pressure, but it was a small price to pay.

"The rope!" Much cried, "Grab the rope!"

He tried, trusting Allan's strength to hold as he reached out, but his weight was too far off balance. He would pull both of them down if he let go of the side completely. Instead he tried to wrap the lifeline around his legs, hoping to bring it closer.

Then someone else had him. Robin could feel the strong grip on the back of his hood, startling him slightly as the pressure closed around his neck.

"Choking," Robin warned, and felt the pressure change as John was able to reach further down, now grabbing him by the back of the cloak he wore. It was still painful, but not as bad as he began to move up the last few feet of the treacherous side.

"You always have to do this!" Much cried, "Why do you always have to do this?"

Robin didn't respond, only reaching out to pull himself up over the top. His heart was hammering inside his chest, and it was already hard to breathe. He wasn't going to waste what little breath he had left on answering. John, still holding onto his cloak, pulled him up the last bit, and though he could not feel the change, Robin could.

It was too much. Due to Robin's weight, the material being soaked thoroughly, the cloak gave way without warning. Having been nearly there Robin hadn't established a good hold, having trusted on the firm grip of both Allan and John. But Allan had let go as well, believing, as Robin had, that everything was now fine. He tried to reach out, tried to stop his descent, but it was already too late.

He was falling.

TBC