Allan hadn't slept at all. Ever since the conception of his plan, which the Sheriff theatrically referred to as "The Grand Illusion," Guy and Allan had been staying at the castle, giving the appearance that Robin had truly moved back into Locksley Manor. It was all good and well for Guy; as the Sheriff's right hand, he was given a relatively lavish room. Allan had been stuck in what he guessed was the servant's quarters. The bed wasn't so much a bed as it was a bizarre arrangement of lumpy pillows; even his bedroll in the forest had been more comfortable.

This relocation did nothing for his temperament, which was quickly becoming more and more Guy-like as the week progressed. He had just finished tacking the horses for himself and Marian when the Sheriff paraded into the stables, a grin on his face. Normally, he found Allan to be a pretty funny man. Presently, what with Allan going into a sort of mini Gisborne funk, the Sheriff found him to be absolutely hilarious.

"If you brush that horse any harder, you'll take its skin off," he muttered quietly, giggling to himself as Allan jumped, dropping the brush on the floor in surprise. He quickly picked the brush up, doing all in his power to stop himself from glaring at the Sheriff. He wasn't nearly as good at it as Gisborne was, which only added to the Sheriff's amusement.

"So, you've decided to take a more subtle approach in finding our dear friend Robin," he noted, the laughter still in his voice. Allan nodded slowly, having another go at brushing the horse, his movements tense. "Take care that you don't lose her. Gisborne will be unbearably mopey otherwise."

Allan nodded, knowing that the Sheriff was trying to get a reaction out of him, that he couldn't care less about Marian's safety, and that he was being insufferable because of the large chest that had arrived the night before. The Sheriff was sure that the outlaws would have their hands full with Robin and would be unable to steal the chest.

"One man's misfortune is my gain," The Sheriff misquoted. "Imagine how foolish the outlaws must feel, going through all that trouble to rescue a leader that cannot lead. Though, in my humble opinion, he wasn't fit to lead in the first place. Just look at the crew he assembled. Really, the women were a nice touch, especially that lovely, little blacksmith, but you can hardly expect me to believe that they're there solely for fighting." Allan gripped the brush so hard that his knuckles turned white.

That's your wife he's talking about! A part of him yelled. The more logical part, which Allan suspected was often on holiday, responded calmly. Relax. He's just trying to get a reaction out of you. You do anything now, and that's your cover blown, now isn't it? The Sheriff clapped a hand on Allan's shoulder, noting the tightness of the man's muscles.

"Word of advice, Allan. You're my favorite, but it won't continue that way if you catch leprosy." It was the most nonsensical advice that Allan had ever heard. He made a mental note to ask Guy about it later.

As the Sheriff strolled out, Marian entered, looking more than ready for her day away from the castle. She raised an eyebrow at Allan, who simply nodded at the waiting horse.

---

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Robin asked, hesitantly notching the arrow in the bow that Morgan had handed him. Morgan was standing across the camp, an apple balanced on her head.

"Sure as there's a sun," she replied, standing still. "Now, go ahead. Shoot the apple."

"What if I hurt you?" Robin asked, lowering the bow. Morgan rolled her eyes.

"You won't. You're Robin. You don't miss," she explained again. "Just shoot." Robin wasn't sure how she'd talked him into this, but the back of his mind told him that she did this sort of thing all the time. He sighed, raising the bow.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he muttered again, keeping his aim.

"Robin, it's ok! I trust you!" Morgan said impatiently. "Shoot!" Robin took aim, gulping as he focused. The bow felt right in his grip, and suddenly everything seemed to line up in front of him. He took a breath and released the arrow, hitting the apple in the exact center. Morgan grinned, pulling the arrow out of the wall behind her.

"See?" she asked, holding the arrow out to Robin. He took it, examining the perfect shot.

"It was just luck," he said, staring in wonderment.

"Not being funny, but that's skill, not luck," Morgan corrected, a wide smile on her face. Robin smiled back, narrowing his eyes. He hadn't been able to remember the young woman standing in front of him, but now that he'd spent time with her, she seemed familiar. Still, she hadn't said anything to him about his past life, other than the fact that he was an amazing shot.

"Not being funny," he copied, "but what exactly are you supposed to tell me? I'm pretty sure that they didn't expect you to do this." For a moment, Morgan cursed Robin's intuitive nature, but she supposed that it was a step in the right direction and retracted her unspoken muttering.

"They wanted me to tell you about Allan," she admitted, sitting down. Robin took the cue and sat next to her. He'd been wondering about Allan ever since Will had dodged his question the night before. He'd seemed like a nice guy, and when Robin had found out that the Sheriff was bad news, it just didn't fit that Allan was working for him. Robin had been pretty sure that Allan was his friend.

"He never meant to hurt anyone," Morgan started. "That, I can't stress enough." Now Robin was curious, scooting closer to Morgan like a child at story time. Morgan sighed, steeling herself to continue.

"He was captured by Gisborne and tortured. I suspect that Guy would've killed him if he hadn't taken the deal," she emphasized the second bit. "Again, Allan never meant to hurt anyone."

"What was the deal?" Robin asked.

"Allan agreed to spy for Gisborne," Morgan said quickly, as if getting it out in the open faster would make the betrayal less severe. Robin stared at Morgan for a moment.

"Against me?" he asked. Morgan nodded. "Why?"

"He felt stuck, Robin," she tried to explain. "He never meant to hurt anyone."

"If he felt stuck, why didn't he say something?" Robin asked. He couldn't really remember Allan, but from what he'd seen he thought that Allan was pretty rational.

"Not being funny, mate, but you're not always the easiest person to talk to about things like that. You're a bit…" Morgan fumbled for a phrase, looking down at her feet for a moment. "Black and white."

"What do you mean by that?" Morgan couldn't help but laugh at the indignant voice that she'd heard Robin use so often, usually in conversation with Much. He furrowed his brow, as if she was laughing at some sort of inside joke.

"I mean that you have definite opinions about things, and you aren't very compromising," she giggled. Robin offered a crooked smile, almost apologizing.

"Did we get in a fight? Allan and I?" he asked.

"You could say that," Morgan nodded slowly. "You banished Allan, and he went to Gisborne. But he's been helping from the inside, Robin. He's been slipping information and helping us sneak in and out of the castle and protecting Marian."

Robin tried to keep up as Morgan rattled off the shortlist of all the things that Allan had done to help the gang. He could hear voices in a heated exchange. Everything is a choice! Everything we do! Had that been Robin, yelling so angrily? He closed his eyes, remembering a pair of sad, blue eyes staring at him, begging him for understanding. Apparently, he hadn't been able to understand at the time. He looked at Morgan, who had taken to sharpening her hunting knife. He watched her hands move the whetstone over the blade of the knife, a practiced ease to the movements.

"I'm sorry that I can't remember your name," he apologized. Morgan glanced up at him momentarily, shrugging as she continued her work.

"That's alright. It'll come back to you," she promised.

---

"I'm just so tired of that stupid castle," Allan admitted as they rode along. Marian allowed him to vent his frustration, understanding where he was coming from. "All I want to do is leave. Maybe leave Nottingham. Get some land somewhere."

"Why don't you?" Marian asked.

"I can't just walk out on the lads," he answered, giving Marian a sideways glance. "I wasn't lying when I said that I love them, you know."

"Well, you did help save my life, and you're taking a great risk to help Robin now. Maybe he'll let you back into the gang," Marian suggested. Allan nodded, though he didn't look convinced. Maybe the Robin that had gotten smacked around the head would let him back in the gang, but once he got his memories back, Allan had a sneaking suspicion that his chances wouldn't be as good.

"It's just…" Allan paused, grasping at words. "I've made a lot of mistakes, and I try to keep moving, but they're the kind of mistakes that I can't get away from." Marian was surprised that Allan was telling her all of this, and from the look on his face, he was equally surprised. Nonetheless, he continued.

"Not even starting with this mess with Gisborne, you know? Cheating people in taverns, the people that I was supposed to be helping. Running off with Gisborne's silver when I should've gone back to the lads. Tom…" Allan shook his head, this voice trailing off as his brother's name slipped past his lips. He made a point to avoid Marian's gaze.

"Who's Tom?" Marian asked, hearing the deep-seated hurt in his voice and deciding that Allan had helped her and she would do the same for him.

"Don't worry about it," Allan mumbled, wishing that they were closer to the camp. Marian was probably the most stubborn person her knew. Well, he knew Robin, so maybe she was the second most stubborn. She wasn't going to let something like this slide.

"Allan," Marian persisted. "Who's Tom?" He could feel her stare boring into him, and he sighed.

"Tom was my brother," he caved. "He was my little brother, alright? Now, about Robin…" Marian had been around Allan long enough to know when he was about to slip out of a question, and she simply wasn't going to tolerate it.

"We can talk about Robin when we get to the camp," she said with such a finality that Allan knew he was cornered. He hardly felt that it was the time for them to be talking about his problems, and even if it was, he wasn't too keen on sharing. Even though he didn't feel compelled to spill his heart out, the glare that Marian sent at him told him that he didn't really have a choice.

"Do you remember when you got engaged to Guy?" he asked, knowing that answer. "The day before, three men tried to rob your house. Tom was one of them." He'd been strategic about his explanation, ensuring that Marian would be able to figure out what had happened to Tom while avoiding actually saying it himself. Marian's hand moved to her mouth, and the glare that she'd fixed him with quickly changed to a look of sympathy.

"About Robin," Allan said pointedly, changing the subject.

---

Robin was pleased with himself, and he allowed the fact to show as Morgan laughed out loud. She had decided that the memories she could've shared with Robin would've been too much to handle, not only for Robin, but for her as well. Instead, she sat back and allowed Robin to think about all of the things he'd been told, all of the things that he'd remembered, and all of the things that he was currently thinking. The memories seemed to be coming to him with less difficulty, and he didn't hesitate to tell Morgan everything that he remembered.

Morgan nodded, though she couldn't really confirm any of his retellings, having been absent for a majority of the events he was recalling. He seemed to remember his life as an outlaw and all of the heists the gang had pulled off. If Morgan hadn't known any better, she wouldn't have known that Robin had lost his memory, the way that he was carrying on. He was acting with the cool, confident air that he normally did, the familiar swagger evident in his speech and his movements.

"Am I interrupting?" Robin had been so caught up in telling Morgan about a Saracen assassin squad neither one of them had noticed when Marian poked her head into the camp. Morgan was quick to pick up on the fact that Marian's presence entailed Allan's, and she stood, brushing herself off.

"Robin was telling me about the gang before I joined," she informed. "Maybe you could help him out. I mean, you were there and all." Not giving time for a reply, she exited the camp, leaving Marian and Robin alone.

"Where is she off to?" Robin asked, peering after Morgan, wondering at her abrupt exit. He missed Marian's subtle smirk.

"She has business to attend to," Marian sighed, taking the empty space next to Robin, trying not to laugh as he grinned at her with the sweet-but-goofy grin that he'd used when they were much younger. It reminded her of before he left for the Crusade, before he'd come back with the terrors of the Holy Land weighing down on his mind.

Part of Marian wanted things to remain as they were, to save Robin from the nightmares that he'd never admit to having. She shook her head. England needed Robin Hood. She needed Robin Hood. For a moment, they sat in a comfortable silence, in which Robin discretely moved his hand until it bumped up against hers.

---

As soon as Marian had disappeared into the camp, the gang parted like the Red Sea, as if they knew what was coming. Sure enough, Morgan ran out seconds later, leaping into Allan's arms, her arms wrapping tightly around her husband.

"How is he?" Allan asked, nodding at the camp.

"Better," Morgan answered. "He can still shoot, and I think he remembers most of his life as an outlaw."

"What about before?" Much asked. Morgan's smile faltered.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "He didn't say anything about it." Much tried to hide his disappointment with a smile. The gesture tugged at his features for a moment before he abandoned the pretense and sighed, bowing his head.

"Hey, none of that," Allan spoke up, the optimism coming easily with Morgan in his arms. "Positive attitudes and all." Much hadn't been expecting encouraging words from Allan, and he stared at the former outlaw with wide-eyes.

"What?" Allan asked, his hand moving to his face. "Have I got something on my face?" He wasn't sure why Much started laughing like a madman, but he figured it was a good sign.

---

And then my brain exploded. Hey, everyone! Sorry about the stupid amount of time it's taking me to get this story done. I actually had a huge surge of inspiration on another fic.

Also, I have really mixed feelings about this chapter. It didn't turn out at all like I planned, but I don't necessarily hate it. I dunno. At any rate, I have some good news and bad news.

The bad news is that the next and last chapter of this story will take a while.

The good news is that when I post the next story, you'll likely get three chapters at once. Yay?

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! Please review!