Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own Robing Hood or the characters. My take on what was happening to Will during the Season Three finale (which I greatly disliked).
One night Will had dreamed of rain, money and a trip to Scarborough. He had dreamt of dancing blue eyes convincing him to run and try to start a new life. The dream was of a memory of a time and place very different to the golden desert that was his current home. He had been back in the green, green woods of Sherwood surrounded by the musky scent created through the combination of forest and water. He was sitting under an overhanging rock, reliving past discussions of honour and deception. He was walking back, returning home, filled with expectations of disappointment. He was watching his friends fight for their lives. He was fighting alongside them. He was watching Allan fall, arrows protruding from his back.
"Wrong!" Screamed Will's mind. Even in the dream, he knew this wasn't right. Allan. He lived. It was Marion they almost buried. Not Allan. Never Allan. "No! NO!"
He awoke still crying out in a cold sweat, shivering and clutching his aching chest as he gasped in and out, filling his lungs with air. Djaq sat up soon after him and had eventually calmed him enough for him to lie back down on the bed, breathing normal. He didn't go back to sleep that night, nor did he sleep well for many nights after that. He was never able to shake the intense feeling of loss or stop the image of Allan falling to the ground from surfacing every time he closed his eyes.
Please review!
Leafy