A/N: Inspired by Season One of Stranger Things, but mostly modeled after all the fun multiverse tropes. Hey, if other fandoms can use it, why not Robin Hood?

Sherwood forest was not merely *thought* to be haunted. John and his men had taken advantage of the legends and put the stories to good use, but that in no way meant the legends weren't true.

Ghosts – shadowy, shimmering reflections quickly glimpsed through the rain. Glimpses of, not just people long dead, but of the living: family members that were known to be miles away, a neighbor who was reputed to be injured and lying in bed, a friend already standing by your side, yourself.

These reflections only appeared in forests and always during thunderstorms. It was said that these were the moments when the veil separating the different worlds became visible.

And sometimes, if during the thunderstorms, the lightning hits the veil just right, the curtain tears for a moment, and a man can come stumbling into another world.

…

Robin surveyed the damage. The storm last night had been intense and left quite a bit of destruction and disarray in its wake. They were going to have do a lot of repairs. The rope bridges were damaged, roofs were blown away, falling limbs had crashed through some of the shelters. Maybe solace wasn't truly to be found in the trees.

"Robin, you have to see this!" That and calls like it alerted Robin that something was underfoot. Several men poured into the camp. Sprinting to him, Much and others swarmed around, their chaotic barrage of exclamations drowning out any possibility of understanding what exactly they wanted him to see. But their laughter boded well, so Robin allowed them to lead him along.

They finally let go of him at the river, still not explaining with any coherency why they were doing so. Little John and others waited in a line in front of him.

All were smirking at him.

"Well?" Robin asked as no one made a move to enlighten him.

Finally, John cleared his throat. "Robin of Locksley, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to…Robin of Locksley." John stepped aside. Behind him was…

Well, behind John was himself. Or at least, he looked a little…no, he looked exactly like himself. Flesh-and-blood exact.

"What is this?"

His…twin stepped forward. "I'm you," the man said with a small smile, "but obviously I'm not you. It seems the legends are true."

Robin's blood raced at the implication. "You're from the other world?"

"Well, one of the other worlds, but yes, I am."

.

They brought him back to camp, all the men eagerly pestering him with questions.

"Are you an outlaw in your world, too?"

"Oh, yes."

"Can you shoot an arrow as well as our Robin?"

"Probably better."

"Did you fight in the Crusades?"

"Yes."

"So your lives are basically the same."

"It appears so. Although we haven't built into the trees as you have here."

Robin replied to the other's praise. "It needs a lot of work."

"It's still impressive."

..

Robin studied this other version of himself. It was strange. Robin could truly see how the others saw him. New Robin – as Little John had christened him, demanding he was owed the right – looked and acted exactly like him.

Well, the clothes were different. New Robin's clothes were much less patched and grimy. The fabric was richer; it made Robin remember his old wardrobe (all destroyed with his home's burning) with a pang of bitterness.

In fact, New Robin was an apt description. The man was shinier, brighter, even cheerier than him. This Robin was delighting in this other-world predicament. He answered all questions easily and greeted people he recognized with a laugh and a wild story. It was all a fun game to him.

Which, Robin had to admit, the situation was humorous to some extent.

But he had to know something.

As evening fell, the others began to disperse back into the chaotic festivities that dominated camp life in the evening, leaving Robin, John, Azeem, and only a handful of others around their fire with New Robin. With most of the crowd gone, Robin seized the moment to ask the question he needed an answer to.

"What made you become an outlaw?"

For the first time the cheerful facade left the stranger's face.

In its place was an anger Robin was all too familiar with.

"The Sheriff murdered my family," he finally answered, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "I vowed I wouldn't rest until I've put him in the grave. And burned everything he loves to the ground."

Robin knew the pain all too well. The exact sentiments expressed…he wasn't quite so sure about. Was this how he sounded to others?

New Robin turned the question back on him. "And what about you?"

The pain resurfaced. "The same. Nottingham killed my father. Seized his lands, pretended he was a devil worshiper." Robin gestured to the milling crowd. "He took all these people's homes."

The other Robin's brow furrowed, a question starting to form on his lips, but then his gaze snapped up. New Robin jumped to his feet, Robin instantly following, trying to locate what danger the man had spotted.

"So I take it there are two Robin of Locksleys now?"

Of course. The sarcastic voice explained everything. And here Robin had been thinking there was an actual danger.

Will Scarlett drew closer to the firelight, his contemptuous glance raking over them both.

"Will." The other Robin breathed the name. He stood stock still, his gaze frozen on the young outlaw.

"So there's a Will Scarlett in your world, too?" Robin asked.

Instead of the quick agreement Robin was expecting, the new Locksley just turned a blank look on him. "Will Scarlett?" he repeated, puzzlement obvious.

Which in turn slightly confused Robin. But maybe that world was a little less creative and Will was just Will over there. "Yes, Will was one of John's original outlaws." Robin strove to be polite. "Did he knock you into the river to collect taxes as well?"

"What?" New Robin's brow furrowed. "I- I don't understand."

So Robin found himself having to explain the events of his first encounter with the outlaws, including the initial thrashing from John but Robin's ultimate victory. The story's retelling brought everyone around to laughter, except for its intended audience. The new Locksley never cracked a smile; instead, his frown deepened. He never took his eyes off Scarlett.

Wulf spoke up as the laughter died down. "Was that how it happened for you, New Robin?" (Wulf had taken a liking to the new name and was using it every chance he got.)

That finally seemed to jolt the other Robin back into awareness. "No," he finally said. "No, John just stopped me on the trail. And I convinced him to join me."

Robin canted his head. "Well, it's not as exciting but it does get the job done." Robin sat back down. Scarlett, who'd been shifting on his feet ever since New Robin had begun staring, finally stepped away. Robin couldn't say he was sad to see him go; he didn't want Scarlett to stir up any trouble with their guest.

But then the guest was calling and stopping him. "Will, won't you join us?"

Scarlett shook his head. "I don't think so."

"There's plenty of room."

John made eye contact with Robin, but Robin shrugged. If his other self wanted to be polite to Scarlett and create an awkward dinner, then so be it. You come falling into a parallel world, you get a few allowances.

"I'd rather not."

But at least Will was smart enough to avoid that disaster waiting to happen.

"Please."

There was a long silence from Scarlett. He was too far away from the fire for Robin to make out any expression. When he spoke though, his voice was quiet. "No, thank you."

There was a murmuring in the group after Will disappeared. "Have you ever heard Will say 'thank you' before?"

"I'd say this new Robin's a miracle worker if he can get Scarlett to be polite."

…..

Robin woke up, groggy and disoriented. Something wasn't right. This wasn't where he normally slept. What was – oh. The cobwebs started falling away, and he remembered where he was. A familiar, strange world. So much was similar but in this world…in this world, Will was still alive.

The return of that knowledge jolted Robin to his feet. He had to talk to him; a second chance he would never get again.

He found Will – Scarlett – up on a house in the trees, fixing the roof from the previous storm.

"Would you like some help?"

Will's expression shut down when he saw him. "I've got it," he dismissed.

Yeah, Robin had been halfway expecting that. He'd mulled over the events of last night and there was definitely a barrier here. But he would persist. Robin climbed the ladder. "The work would go faster with two."

"It might at that," Will agreed as he continued laying down the thatch, "but unfortunately, I never learned how to count. But thanks just the same."

Robin spotted his opening. "In my world, Will knew how to count."

This Will threw him a side-eye of disdain. "He does in this one, too. I just wanted you to leave me alone."

"In my world, I taught you how to count." When Will made no reaction, Robin pressed the point. "Don't you want to know why I was the one to teach you?"

"No, I know why."

Robin stopped. "You do?" He'd wondered. "But the other, your Robin –"

"No, he doesn't know." Will finally paused in his work and looked at him. "Please don't tell him."

"He doesn't know," Robin repeated. "How could he not know?"

"Does it matter?"

Robin wanted to scream that yes it mattered. This Robin had no idea that he had a little brother, didn't know of all the wonderful moments he'd missed out on, and he wanted desperately to know why. But he knew Will didn't want to hear any of that. This Will – Scarlett – was pricklier. Time for a different tactic if he wanted to continue conversation.

"Have you noticed how much uglier this Robin is?"

…

Across the camp, Robin was spending the first of the morning strategizing with John. "We need to start scouting out when Nottingham will try to send the next shipment. We'll need time to prepare."

John frowned and grumbled, "We'll have to get Scarlett to go; he's the best when it comes to skulking about."

Robin had less dissatisfaction than John did at utilizing Will in this way; Scarlett was quite skilled at lurking in the midst of strangers without notice when he wanted to.

They had already sent him and others on surreptitious visits to town for information before, and Scarlett had proven himself reliable and effective. In fact, if memory served, it was Will who had first reported the increase in the reward for Robin's head. Which had led to…

All right, he could understand John's hesitancy a little. Will's contempt for him had a way of flaring up from time to time.

But that was nothing new. Pushing the old argument away, Robin returned to yesterday's exciting topic. "Has anyone seen where the new Robin has gone off to this morning?"

He'd expected a minute or more's delay as people tried to find out, but immediately Bull answered him: "he's helping with the repairs," with three other hands instantly pointing the way. In fact, now that Robin thought about it, others had been continually staring that direction all morning.

Robin looked to where he was being pointed and indeed the other Robin was helping with the repairs. Propped against the side of one of the dwellings on the second level, his legs swinging casually over the ledge, New Robin was twisting and weaving the vines and straw to repair the roofs. Robin had done that before, not often, there were enough hands in the camp, and he was needed in much more specialized capacities. So the sight of any Robin at such a task might be unusual enough to warrant the stares. But Robin was reasonably certain it was the man's choice of companion that was drawing the looks.

Will was seated next to him, in much the same position, only he was turned to Robin, listening to whatever the other man was saying as they worked. He appeared…amiable.

"And I thought I'd seen everything," John said.

Robin shook his head with a smile. Grabbing his bow and quiver for his daily archery lesson for the men, he tried to dismiss the slight oddity he felt at the sight. He couldn't help one glance back up and found the other Robin now looking his way. They made eye contact and then the other's eyes skimmed over his bow. New Robin leaned in a little and murmured something to Scarlett, causing him to chuckle.

It was short and quiet, but it made all the activity below them cease. Gazing at the other men craning their necks upward, it seemed Robin was not the only one dumbfounded at the sound.

He turned to John. "Maybe this Robin is a miracle-worker after all."

…

The archers could barely get through their lesson. The camp was too eager for the contest fate had provided them. In vain, Robin tried to keep the distraction at bay, but it was no use. Finally, he succumbed to the inevitable.

With a sigh, he signaled Wulf. "All right, go ahead and invite him here. We'll have a contest."

A grin splitting his face, Wulf bolted away. Several others hurried off, returning with any and everyone they found.

New Robin appeared, Will still at his side, though the young outlaw stepped away as they reached the field.

"I'm not sure this is the best idea," New Robin said to him.

"You're more than welcome to yield at any time."

Robin had the honor of seeing how exactly he looked when he gave a glance of disdain. So snobbish; it was no wonder Scarlett had wanted to knife him.

"Guests first." Robin gestured with a slight bow.

"Shouldn't he be allowed a few practice shots?" Scarlett's voice rose over the general murmur.

The other Locksley shook his head. "If I need to practice, I've already lost." So saying, he grabbed an arrow and let it fly, where it embedded itself into the target's chest.

Cheers of appreciation rose, and Robin favored the other with a smile. Stepping up, he aimed. The audience quieted, waiting. A beat. He fired, his arrow burying itself in the x marking out the right eye.

"Impressive," New Robin half allowed as he notched his next arrow, "but how do we know you were actually aiming for his eye? Nose," he called. Thud. An arrow protruded from where the nose would have been.

Instant chaos resounded around them as the spectators eagerly called out their suggestions for what next to aim at. Robin ignored some of the cruder suggestions and chose the neck. Careful aim and then he sliced through the canvas throat.

The rounds continued after that, each calling their shot and each one making it. The target was moved further and further away, each success now met with both cheers and disbelieving laughter.

In the end, Robin had to remember the manners his mother had taught him. The other was a guest.

He raised his hands with a smile, "All right, I yield."

There was some good-natured jeering at his pronouncement. The two of them shook hands and then John was pounding him on the back, asking him how it felt to be the one to yield.

..

It felt good to be victorious. It was a strange yet not unpleasant feeling, knowing you were the superior Robin.

This Will's eyes were on him, and Robin felt a faint flush rising as he realized Will seemed to have read his thoughts.

"He was your match in skill," this Will challenged him.

"Perhaps, but not in stubbornness."

"No, not in that," his almost-brother agreed. It was almost painful how familiar this conversation felt, his Will teasing him for his reckless actions.

He missed his brother so much.

…

Will couldn't believe he'd been talked into this. But here he was, crossing blades with this new Locksley.

The man had insisted Will learn a few basic moves. (Azeem and Locksley had taught the skills to many of the men, but Will had never volunteered to join them.) They'd been at it for hours, each movement practiced in isolation until Will had gotten the hang of them. Now Locksley was mixing them all together and Will had to adjust accordingly. Robin made a slow lunge at him, and Will clumsily parried it as he fought to remember his footwork. A few quick swings were countered quickly enough and Will started to gain a little confidence. But then Locksley drove his sword down – it was slow enough for Will to bring his sword up in time to meet it, and that should have been the end of that move, but as soon as the swords collided, Will cursed and dropped his weapon.

The sudden lack of resistance startled New Robin. Floundering, he barely managed to keep from injuring Will. "What's wrong?" he asked, regaining his balance.

Will cradled his right hand in his left. The vibration from the swords had sent shockwaves searing into his injury. "Nothing, just hurt my hand a bit."

Locksley didn't accept that answer, pulling Will's hand toward him. "You're bleeding," he observed. "How did you manage that?"

"It's nothing serious. Just opened up an old wound a little, that's all." Will shifted, trying to brush it off.

But New Robin was already tugging off his glove to inspect the hand fully. Slowly he traced the scars.

"Arrow?"

Will nodded tightly.

"Who did that?"

He snorted. "You did. But to be fair, I was trying to murder you."

This Locksley had not been expecting either pieces of that information. It took him a moment to respond. "Why exactly?"

Will suddenly found himself reluctant. A mixture of not wanting to lose this New Robin's esteem and discomfort at discussing any part of his and his Locksley's interactions. And the fact that he felt either of those things made him angry. He set his shoulders. "Why not?"

But New Robin grinned at him. "You have a point there."

…

Robin finally spotted Will, walking back into camp with New Robin. Getting along was one thing, but now voluntarily hanging out together? It was very odd to see.

But also not quite his business, and so he shook the weirdness off as he approached. After all, he had a mission for Scarlett. "Will," he called, and Scarlett stopped. "We need you to go into Nottingham and find out when the Sheriff will be sending the next shipment."

Will just nodded, but New Robin's face darkened. "You're sending him to Nottingham?"

Robin had no idea why the other sounded upset. "Yes."

"Why are you sending him all alone?"

"Because I think twenty strange men descending on Nottingham all at once might be suspicious." He'd thought that would have been obvious; Will also seemed perplexed at the other's objections.

"I'm not talking twenty, I'm talking about an extra set of eyes."

Robin sighed and gave in. "Who would you like to take with you, Will?"

"No one," Scarlett replied. "I work better alone."

The other Robin promptly ignored Will's reply. "It doesn't matter; he still needs protection. I'll go with him."

Scarlett definitely snorted at that; Robin held himself to a smile. "I think you would be a little conspicuous."

"And I think you're a little coward." So saying, the other Robin shoved him and stormed off.

For the life of him, Robin couldn't understand this other-world version.

Will hadn't left, just stood smirking at him. "Hating yourself yet?"

…

New Robin confronted him again later that afternoon, after Scarlett had left for Nottingham.

"Why did Will try to kill you?"

Next to him, John was indignant at the question. "Is Scarlett begging for pity?"

New Robin gave him a cool look. "Does he beg often?"

Robin had to laugh. "No, he does not."

"So why'd he do it?"

"He's not going to try to kill you," Robin reassured him.

"I'm not worried about that. I just want to know."

Robin reluctantly thought back to that day. From his first moment with the outlaws, it had been clear that John and Will were the ones with the brains. John was the leader, but Will's ingenuity had been instrumental in the group's survival. After their fight (or because of) Robin had been able to build a good rapport with John, and he'd seen quickly how he could get these outlaws to join him in his fight against the Sheriff.

But Will had been a different story. Distrustful and not afraid to voice his disapproval. Eager even. Robin knew he was trouble.

And Robin knew himself well enough to realize that that had been a factor in his actions. He'd mocked Will and then insulted him in front of everyone. He hadn't expected such a hostile response, but still. Robin wasn't proud of himself.

He answered the question. "I called him a coward."

"Yeah, and then Scarlett tried to knife him in the back. Don't you go feeling guilty, Robin," John warned him.

"Did he do the same in your world?" Robin quietly questioned, ignoring John.

His counterpart shook his head. "No, he didn't."

"I'd still say don't turn your back on him," John advised.

The other met his gaze, his eyes empty. "My Will's dead."

The words took a moment to sink in. It was unexpected, but on second glance, it made this Robin's actions make more sense.

"Did the two of you get along?"

A small, sad smile. "For the most part."

…

Will returned, safe and sound that evening, not with news of the upcoming bribe shipment but with far more chilling news. "Sir Guy of Gisbourne's dead. The Sheriff killed him."

Scoffs met this pronouncement. "That's impossible. Gisbourne's the Sheriff's cousin."

"And Nottingham gutted him just the same."

"Good riddance," muttered John.

"I'll second that," Robin said, "but I'm more interested in why."

"Simple, Locksley, you beat him."

"Nottingham just killed his biggest ally."

"His soldiers are scared. The man hugged Gisbourne and stabbed him in the same moment. And that was his cousin. They don't want to be next." Will turned and addressed New Robin, who had been listening but offering no input. "The Sheriff do the same in your world?"

"He might have, if he had had the chance."

Will spoke the question before Robin could. "What do you mean?"

"I killed Gisbourne. Gutted him myself. Made sure it was slow and painful."

Will shot a quick, inscrutable glance to Robin before turning back to the new version. "Why?"

"He was the Sheriff's cousin. How was I supposed to know Nottingham didn't care that much about family?"

…

This new Locksley. It was so odd. He knew Will, knew about him, and liked him just the same. Enjoyed spending time with him, wanted to get to know him. It was nice.

Will wasn't oblivious. Locksley had a magnetic persona, both versions. His Locksley could command a group of peasants with nothing but words. He'd taken their outlaw band's meager existence and transformed it into a prosperous haven. He trained them, fought beside them, and endured every hardship alongside the ones he led.

And now, this Locksley was all of that, and he called him brother. Here was a glimpse of his life if Locksley hadn't been a spoiled rich boy all of his life. This Locksley didn't deserve any of his resentment, and, freed from that, he and Locksley got along pretty well. So if he compared the two, this new Locksley should win out in every way, right?

If Will didn't look any farther, it was perfect.

But some part of him kept defending his…his world's Locksley. After all, it was easy to get along with someone when that one was marveling at the fact that you were still alive. Will knew he was benefiting from someone else's life, a lifetime of brotherly companionship that Will couldn't begin to comprehend.

And while his world's Locksley definitely didn't worship the ground he walked on, he hadn't kicked Will out. Hadn't banished him from the only thing close to a home Will had left. And considering the provocation, that counted for a lot.

And then there was the fact that this new Robin had a look in his eye sometimes that made Will uneasy. An anger that was darker, nastier. He lusted after his revenge, something he'd never seen his Robin do.

..

His time was running out, he could feel it. He needed an answer quick. New Robin finally found Will back near the waterfall. "Have you decided yet?"

A hesitation, and then Will gave a small nod. "I have. And I can't go back with you."

The answer hit like a punch. "Why not?"

"It wouldn't work."

"Of course it will. It's working fine now."

"Because it's a game," Will argued. "And it's temporary."

"It doesn't have to be."

"I wouldn't fit in there."

That made Robin splutter. "Do you fit in here? You'd fit in more in my world."

"How? Trying to walk in the shoes of a dead man? I'm sorry your Will was killed, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to be him."

"I wouldn't make you do that. I know you're not him. I'm not trying to resurrect a ghost, I promise."

But Will was shaking his head. "It's more than that. I–I don't want to be in your world."

"Why not?"

"I don't think you'll win." He paused. "I think you'll get everyone killed."

Robin didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it had not been that. He stumbled trying to formulate a reply. "How can you think that?"

"Because all you're after is revenge. You're just using John and the others."

Using them? He thought he was using his outlaws. Well if that were the case…"And your Robin isn't?"

Will shrugged. "I'm not sure. But I think it's more than just revenge. I think he does care about fixing things, helping these people."

With the implication being that he did not. He never would have thought that this Will would have that Robin on such a pedestal. "If you think so highly of him, then why haven't you told him the truth?"

Will's face paled. "Excuse me?"

Too late, Robin heard the implied threat in his words. "I just meant –"

Will interrupted him with a low snarl. "I don't think highly of him, I just think he's better than you."

He stormed away and Robin knew he'd lost any chance he might have had.

…

Robin was walking through his camp when the new Robin hailed him.

"Storm seems to be coming in," the other said. "Your Azeem thinks tonight will be the perfect time to try to go home."

He'd been with them almost a week. "It was an honor to meet you." Although it felt like they'd barely gotten acquainted.

"I haven't seen Will Scarlett around, so I have a favor to ask of you. Could you apologize to him for me?"

"That's…" Robin struggled to reply to that. "That'll be interesting. What for?"

"I left things on a bad note. I wanted to let him know I was sorry." A hesitation. "He trusts you, you know."

Robin snorted. "That's nice of you to say."

"I mean it. I asked him to come back with me. But he'd rather follow you. Just…remember that and watch out for him."

"Am I missing something? In this world, Will hates my guts."

"Oh, he still does," the other grinned. "We did bond over insulting you." He sobered. "But then he said you were a better man than I am." A beat. "Take care of yourself."

Robin clasped his arm in farewell. "You too. Kill the Sheriff for me."

"You do the same."

Azeem's promised storm did come that evening, and once again Robin was the only Locksley left in his world.

…

Robin came across Will the next day. Falling into step with him, he started to do what he had promised.

"He left in the storm last night."

"I heard."

Robin couldn't keep it to himself. "He said he asked you to go back with him."

Will didn't respond one way or another.

"Why didn't you go? You seemed to get along well with him."

"I just enjoyed mocking you, Locksley."

"He mentioned that."

Will finally looked interested in the conversation. Or maybe just wary. "He mention anything else?"

"He wanted me to convey his apology." He definitely had Will's attention. "He didn't give details, but he wanted you to know he was sorry."

Will's expression gave nothing away.

"He also said –"

"That man never shuts up."

"He also said that you trust me."

"He's also a liar."

Robin grinned at Will's instant reply. "You're right, I was remembering wrong. He said you told him I was the greatest, smartest, cleverest man you'd ever met in your entire life."

Will hmmed. "It does seem like something I'd say, doesn't it?" There was almost a smile at his lips before Will turned and headed away.

It hit him then. Will was dead in the other world. The other Robin was back in a world where Will's sarcasm and disdain for him didn't exist anymore. When the other had mentioned Will's death, Robin had been politely sad, but privately he hadn't thought it a terrible loss.

But maybe he understood just a bit better. Seeing the way the other Robin and Will had interacted so easily, it was a camaraderie he wanted for himself.

He didn't know why Will had stayed. Supposedly, the young outlaw trusted him. Not a single person in this camp would ever believe that to be true. And supposedly, Will thought him to be a better person than the Robin Will had laughed with all week.

He didn't know if he believed the other Robin's words. But, all the same, he was glad Will had stayed.