This has actually been my favorite chapter to write, so far. I firmly believe that Will is not as strong as he appears, that his cocky façade is a front to keep from getting too attached to anyone. However, by admitting the truth, that Robin is his brother, he is showing a dependency on Robin. From there, it's only natural for them to become closer as they live through war and sickness. This is another of those in-between scenes that cover what happens between Robin rescuing Marian and their wedding in the forest (this will also have a heavy dose of brotherly comfort). Will seemed to recover rather quickly, both emotionally and physically, so I gave him a bit of time for everything to sink in. After all, (in my story) he's cheated death, twice! That's a lot for anyone to take in, besides the fact that he must feel horrible for having even considered killing Robin, his brother, for the Sheriff. Here, he's feeling weak (something I don't think he'd be proud to admit) and escapes to the river to think. Also, I've had Will acting extremely clingy throughout this story because I feel that he hasn't been shown enough loving attention throughout his life, though perhaps more when his mother was alive. Since his mother's death, he's been on his own, forced into a life of hardship. Now that he has a brother, he wants to show all the love he's feeling for him, and vice versa.

Will woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. He'd only been fully cognizant for a couple of days following his state of delirium, yet every night he was plagued by the nightmares that had haunted him during his fever (even some that hadn't): learning the truth about his parentage and why he'd been ridiculed and beaten, his mother's death, the whipping he'd been subjected to when he'd been captured, telling Robin the truth (easily the hardest thing he had ever done in his eighteen years), his two near-death experiences, fainting after Robin had saved him…

Considering his inner turmoil, Will was amazed when Azeem had pronounced him as healthy, though tentatively so, as long as Will did nothing too extreme that might aggravate his wounds. Will had been cleared to get up and walk around, provided he was supervised by someone, usually Robin. The brothers had spent the time getting to know each other better, without the threat of their friends' lives or a war hanging over their heads! They'd kept to light topics, teasing each other mercilessly, with Will refusing to talk about the recent events that haunted them both (though Will, more than Robin, was affected, considering he'd been the one to face death twice and live).

Will had been through a lot, yet he refused to let anyone else see him as weak. Robin had, already, and as far as Will was concerned, that was damning enough. Brave, strong, courageous Robin had seen Will, his brother, as a sniveling, panicky coward, who feared death and fainted when wounded. Will wanted so much to live up to the family name, yet he continually disappointed. First, he almost betrayed his brother to the Sheriff. Then, he'd panicked when confronted with death, closing his eyes rather than facing death head-on. Finally, when wounded in battle, he'd fainted. Oh, yes. Will Scarlett was a great Locksley!

Unable to bear the sudden claustrophobia that had set in, Will stood, slowly, and made his way outside, deciding to head for the river. Treading silently, so as not to awaken the others, Will set off.

Unbeknownst to him, someone was following Will as he walked the well-worn path to the river.

After a moderately-paced fifteen-minute walk, Will broke through the trees and arrived at the river's edge. He stood for a moment, watching the river flow, before sinking to his knees on the forest floor.

Will's follower stayed in the shadows, hidden behind the leafy branches of a tree.

Will remained stationary, staring at something only he could see. In his mind, Will pictured the events he'd tormented himself with before. Only now, Will gave in to the emotions he'd been feeling. Away from the camp and the possibility of someone discovering him in his weakened state, Will let himself feel for the first time since his mother had died, crying as he never had before.

To his observer, the only indication given that something was wrong was the movement of Will's shoulders as his body was wracked with silent sobs.

Slowly, Robin stepped away from the shelter of the trees, approaching Will and lowering himself to the ground. His heart filled with pain at the sight of his little brother, kneeling at the edge of the river, having a breakdown.

Will gave no sign that he was aware of Robin's presence. Only when Robin put his arm around him and drew him close, did Will tense and fight, before recognizing Robin's touch and throwing himself in Robin's arms, allowing himself to feel comforted for the first time in a while.

The brothers stayed that way for quite some time, Will sobbing and Robin rocking him back and forth.

At last, Will's sobs quieted and he pulled away, wiping his face with his sleeve.

God, I must look a mess, thought Will. What must Robin think of me? Now, not only am I a coward, but I'm a cry-baby too!

Will was pulled from his thoughts by Robin's soothing voice, "Feel better, Will?"

Unbidden, Will's insecurities and self-doubt came pouring forth. "What must you think of me? Now, not only am I a coward, but I'm a cry-baby too!"

Robin was slightly startled by Will's outburst. "You're not a coward, Will. What made you view yourself as one?"

"I panicked," Will began, "When the executioner raised his axe, I shut my eyes. Rather than face death head-on, I hid. Then, I fainted when wounded. As if that weren't enough, I was going to betray you to the Sheriff. I'm no Locksley!"

"And I say you are," argued Robin. "Will, I feared dying every single time I set foot on the battlefield to fight in the Crusades. It's natural to fear death. I'd have been worried if you weren't scared, having an axe held over your head. My point is—everyone would rather live than die. You are no different. And you did not disgrace the name of Locksley by closing your eyes when death seemed imminent. As for fainting, Will, you were losing a lot of blood. Besides the wound to your side, your previous injuries had been reopened when you were forced across that barrel. It's a wonder you lasted as long as you did. Finally, as for betraying me to the Sheriff, you didn't do it, and that's all that matters. And I don't want to hear anymore talk of you feeling guilty for what you almost did, or what you could have or might have done. There's no point in continually beating yourself up over what's in the past."

At hearing that even Robin got scared at times, Will started crying again.

"I just…I feel so…so weak," he sobbed. "And I don't like it. Having had to take care of myself for most of my life, showing weakness was never an option. And then I met you, and I wanted to be weak even less. You were so strong, so confident, I never imagined you being scared of anything."

"I'm not a superhero, Will. I'm human, I have my weaknesses. And I get scared. There were so many times during the battle where I was scared that I was going to lose you. That would have destroyed me, especially having just learned that we were brothers!"

The two fell silent.

"So," Robin began, "we've talked about the battle, yet you still seem tense. What else is troubling you?"

Will took a shaky breath. It was amazing how well Robin knew him already. "I'm still scared, Robin," he whispered. "Every time I close my eyes, I'm forced to relive the same memories that plagued me during my fever."

Ah, thought Robin. Now we come to it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Robin.

"I don't want to be a bother…," Will's voice trailed off, letting Robin make the decision.

"You could never be a bother, Will. Now, what are you remembering that's been troubling you? Let me share the burden."

"Well, first, I find myself back at Nottingham. I'm tied to the barrel and I can hear Wulf gasping for air. Then I feel the executioner's axe against my neck. He raises it, but before it kills me I find myself in the dungeon with Wulf and the others."

Robin watched as Will talked about his experiences. He wished, more than anything, that he could spare his brother all that he had gone through. But then, Will wouldn't be the same person he was currently.

Caught up in the past, Will almost forgot about Robin's presence. "The guards are whipping me and I cry out. They laugh and I bite my lip to avoid making any more noise. Then I'm shoved out of the gate, landing face-first in the dirt. I'm told that's where scum like me belong."

Robin's arm tightened around Will. "That's not true!" he interjected. "You are not scum and you don't belong in the dirt. You are of the house of Locksley and you are a good man!"

"Thank you, Robin," said Will, debating whether or not to end his story or tell Robin about the boys from his village.

"There's something else, isn't there?" asked Robin, once more reading Will's mind and knowing when he was keeping something to himself. "When I watched you sleep, while you had that fever, I watched you move about, as though escaping some great pain known only to you. You've described the battle and your torture in the Sheriff's dungeon, which I can match your movements to. But there was one point when you were curled up in a ball, seemingly to protect your head and whatever else you could. Care to explain?"

Will sighed. "You're not gonna like it," he warned, seeing as it was Robin's fault that his father had abandoned Will's mother, leaving her to be labeled a whore and Will a bastard child.

"That's all the more reason to tell me," urged Robin. "If you don't think I'll like it, that probably means that I deserve to hear it, if only to feel the proper guilt."

"See, that's exactly why I don't want to tell you. You'll feel guilty! And you don't deserve to, Robin. You're a hero to the people of Nottingham. You saved them from the Sheriff. You should be basking in the glory of that rather than listening to my life story."

"I don't want to bask in any glory when you're in pain, Will," explained Robin.

Will sighed, once again. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you," he advised.

Similarly to when Will first told him that they were brothers, he now kept his eyes locked on Robin, watching his reactions.

"I'd always wondered where my father was," Will began. "But every time I asked, Mother would always shut down or change the subject. I could never get her to answer me. Finally, when I was about eight years old, I got my answer, though at a price. I was playing with some boys in the village when one of them, a big 12-year-old bully named Ben, started taunting me, asking where my father was. His tone of voice confused me, I'd never heard such malice before. I told him I didn't know and he replied that it was because I didn't have one, I was a bastard child."

Robin flinched at the word "bastard," knowing full well that he was to blame.

Will soldiered on, "The other boys formed a circle around me, chanting, "Bastard" over and over again. When I tried to leave, Ben pushed me away. I tripped and fell. The circle closed in on me, punching and kicking wherever they could, while I could only curl up in a ball to protect myself. There were too many, Robin. I would have been killed if I'd tried to fight back!"

Will seemed trying to convince himself as well as Robin that he wasn't a coward, he merely picked battles that he knew he could win.

"They finally decided that I'd had enough. Ben was the last to leave, pausing to lean over and spit on me. He told me I was worthless. Once I was sure that they were gone, I got up and went home, where Mother finally told me who my father was and why those boys thought it necessary to beat me."

There was silence following Will's story. Then, suddenly, Will found himself being pulled in a bear-hug by Robin, who was shaking almost as much as Will had been after his beating.

"Will, I love you. You are NOT worthless. You didn't deserve that. I do, however, for putting you through that. Will, I can never apologize enough for the pain I've caused you and your late mother. I can only reiterate that if I'd known of your existence, I would not have forced Father to give up your mother."

"Robin, I may not have deserved to be beaten, but neither do you! I always wanted an older brother who would look out for and protect me. You've done that and more than made up for forcing our parents apart! Thank you. I love you."

Will lay his head on Robin's shoulder and snuggled into his brother's side, which was warm and promised to shut out the rest of the world.

"How did you know I was here?" Will asked, sleepy now that his past was out in the open.

"I'd gotten up to stretch my legs and was outside when you left. I'd sensed that something was wrong, so I followed you in the hopes that you'd be more comfortable talking away from camp."

"Well, thank you," murmured Will, before falling asleep, still nestled in his brother's arms.

Robin looked down at his brother, the moonlight shining on his face.

He looks so peaceful, thought Robin. In sleep, he looks much younger, as though he's lost the immense weight he's always carried on his shoulders.

Robin was pulled from his observations as Will shifted in his arms, moaning slightly, "Robin, the drums."

Instantly, Robin was on-alert, recognizing the beginnings of one of Will's nightmares.

"Will," said Robin, shaking his shoulder lightly. "Will, wake up. It's only a dream. You're safe. I've got you. I swear to you, brother, I will never let anyone come close enough to hurt you, ever again."

Will woke up, eyes wide with panic and fear. His hands moved, as if of their own violation, towards both his ears and his neck. Subconsciously, Will sought to block out the pounding of the drums while at the same time save his neck.

"You were dreaming, brother," said Robin, calmer now that Will was awake.

Once Will's breathing slowed, he chanced a glance up at Robin.

"Did you mean all those things you said, Robin?" he asked, worried that Robin's ramblings had been part of his dream.

"You heard all that?"

"Yes. Then, it wasn't part of my dream?"

"No, Will, it wasn't part of your dream. And, yes. I meant every word. I will never let you be hurt again!"

"Thank you, Robin. You're the best brother anyone could ever hope to have."

"I try," said Robin, giving his shoulders a modest shrug while grinning down at Will. He was rewarded by the sound of Will's distinct laugh echoing through the trees. "Do you feel better now, Will?" he asked, serious once more.

"Yes, Robin. I do. I think I won't be so quick to push my emotions away. I should be allowed to feel without fear of being called weak."

"That you should, brother. And I will, personally, have words with anyone who says anything against you. Are you ready to go back?"

"Yes, Robin. Only, I insist that you take the bed. After all, it's your house. It's time I move out."

"Over my dead body," said Robin, only half-teasing. "You're still recovering. Until you are completely well, you will stay in my house, in my bed, where I can watch over you. Remember, you wanted an older brother to look out for and protect you? This is me fulfilling that role."

"Alright, Robin," said Will, knowing when he was licked and too tired to put up much of an argument.

"Let's go," said Robin, standing and moving to help Will up as well.

He kept his arm around Will, supporting him without appearing to, as they made their way through the woods and back to their camp.

Will's strength was fading, so by the time they reached Robin's hut, Robin was bent over supporting most of Will's weight.

"Sorry," Will muttered, sleepily.

Robin set him on the bed, kneeling to remove Will's shoes, before laying him down and tucking the covers up around him.

"I'll be right here," he whispered, moving to sit in the chair that he'd been occupying for the past week. "Sleep well, little brother."

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