A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta and inspiration!

Chapter 10: Choices

Night was still heavy in the air, but even so he could not sleep. The skies had started changing sometime ago, the first breath of light fighting through the heavy dark as morning tried to claim the land of the sleeping. Robin still stood where he was, weary and worn. He had fallen into fitful periods of sleep throughout the long night, but he could not tell if he had ever slept more than a few minutes at a time. And as the morning broke he just wanted to rest. Not the thirst, not the pain mattered anymore, he only wanted to lie down and sleep, his mind having trouble to think past this very simple need.

He needed a few moments to realize that he was not actually alone. A grinding and irritating noise filled the air as the sheriff came to join him, a song spouting out from his putrid mouth and making things all the more unbearable.

"So tell me, how did we sleep?"

Robin didn't answer, refused to give the other man such pleasure. The only relief he took in his presence was the fact that everything would soon be over. His only regret was that his men would follow. And Marian of course; surely she would witness the entire spectacle. By now he was not even certain anymore that he had really seen her the night before, there to encourage him. Maybe his mind was playing yet another trick on him, trying to infuse hope in him that simply wasn't there.

"Oh come now, Robin, my boy, it is rather rude to ignore one's company. It is only polite that you return the same courtesy. Even someone with your...limitations can return certain favors," the sheriff complained.

Still Robin said nothing, ignoring the words easier than he had the objects thrown at him the day before. There was little the man could say to infuriate Robin now, even the questions of spies and betrayals were far in the back of his mind.

"I slept beautifully," Vaysey smiled, drawing closer now. "Like a warm babe with a full belly, nestled against his mother's bare skin. I'm sure you had a similar experience, no?"

The sheriff smiled as he straightened, clasping his hands. "I'd rather thought I'd hang you at first light. Then I had another thought, a marvelous thought. A way that you could... redeem yourself, I guess you could say. The people, you see, don't love you anymore. I'm sure you figured that out yourself," he stated, drawing a finger across Robin's forehead, trailing it through a cluster of dried and putrid fruit. Robin pulled away from the touch, the only response he had given the man since his arrival. The sheriff smiled, wiping the debris off on Robin's clothes.

"So I am here to present you with an offer. You can give yourself up to the gallows...or stay here for another day to explain yourself to the people of Nottingham. What say ye? Hmm?"

Robin did not answer, knowing he was going to die anyway. They all were. Perhaps with the focus on him the sheriff would grow weary of toying with the others. Perhaps he would forget altogether, ordering a swift death instead. Robin was the real prize here, Robin was the man the sheriff wanted to strip down and destroy. He had already accomplished that, there wasn't much left to do.

He could not tell if he would even last another day and night. He was not even sure he wanted to. The thought was frightening, but choosing the gallows seemed a quicker, easier way. But then the sheriff would know he had given up. Robin closed his eyes, trying to forget the presence of the man, but admitting to himself that he had, indeed, given up.

"So what is it?

As all the exhaustion and pain were coming together, Robin wanted to spat out and tell the sheriff to hang him, have it over with, but he didn't want to give the man the pleasure of him choosing death on his own will, so he bit on his lip, hard enough to draw tiny drops of blood and tasted the salt of it, a strange reminder of the fact that he was still alive.

"Hhm? No choice at all?" Vaysey clapped his hands again. "What do you think about having both? We start the day with a hanging, but you stay here for another day or two?" The sheriff held up a finger, a smile on his face. "I figured you would be eager to depart this world, to take another chance at escape. But as you seem to enjoy it here so much... you shall stay here, and take pleasure in watching your men die before your eyes. How shall it go? One by one, or the entire crowd at once?"

"You revolting pig," Robin whispered, his voice hoarser than ever, anger laced in it once again. He was certain the man would not be touched by his words, but Robin knew no other way to defend himself anymore.

"Ah, mind your manners," the sheriff said, reaching up, patting Robin on the cheek with cheerful glee. "Try not to enjoy yourself too fully; we have a busy day ahead of us. First your men, another day alone with the people, and then you will march to the gallows on your own." He made fist, teeth showing from behind his crooked lips as he smiled. "You are alone after all. A fate as you choose it."

Nothing else was said, the man turning on his heels and skipping merrily away, another song drifting on the wind as he left Robin alone with the guards that still kept watch at his side.

Robin was not sure if he was grateful for the solitude, or more desperate now. He wasn't sure if he even cared. He knew they were all going to die, but he had not imagined that it would be like this. He had never even thought it was possible. For all he had given up, the sacrifices he and the others had made, now none of it meant a thing. The people would arrive, they would cheer for his death, and the deaths of all the others. It was a sickening feeling.

Worse, he would be forced to watch it all. His men would see him as he was, broken and defeated, and Robin would not even be able to encourage them or give them any sense of hope, even as false as it would be. They would die before his eyes, perhaps as broken as he was, and then his own time would come. The only thing he could pray for was that all of it was swift.

The yard did not stay empty for long. A large man who Robin guessed to be the hangman arrived and climbed up to the gallows, starting to prepare a rope for the upcoming hanging. More people came through the market as the sun made its way up in the sky and more guards collected in front of the castle entrance. Finally the sheriff reappeared, Gisborne at his side.

More and more town's folk arrived after the appearance of the men. One of the guards placed himself close to Robin's side, nearer even than the other guards were standing, obviously ordered to protect him from anything that would keep him from watching the spectacle closely. A cold wind blew over the yard and Robin shook slightly, uncertain if it was really the chill that was getting to him.

"Bring out the prisoners," the sheriff called joyfully, and Robin's heart beat faster as John, Much and Allan were all led out of the castle. The lightheadedness was still there, but the pain almost forgotten, as he turned to look at his men, knowing it was the last hour.

"Robin!" Much shouted excitedly. "Robin! I knew it!" He glanced at John, then turned his head to Allan behind him. "I knew it!" Then a guard pushed Allan forward into Much and the man let out a groan before falling silent. Robin's only consolation was that his men seemed to have been left untouched in the dungeons, hadn't suffered under the sheriff's cruel regime. They were all to die now and the thought made Robin pull at the ropes that bound his arms with a strength he had not felt since the day before, but it vanished quickly as the realization of it being in vain came back.

"Yes, yes, dear Robin is still here, indeed," the sheriff spoke up. "And he will now you see each and every one of you out!" he smiled at the outlaws, before turning to the crowd. "People of Nottingham! We are gathered here-"

He never finished the sentence. Instead his words morphed into a cry, a high-pitched scream as an arrow shoot through the air. Startled eyes, including that of Robin's, turned to where it had come from, a figure standing on the highest castle wall. It was a figure Robin recognized easily enough.

"They killed me! They killed me!" Vaysey cried then and Robin turned to see the projectile sticking out from the man's foot, the sheriff's face set into a permanent howl as he grasped his limb, jumping about in an erratic circle. "Get him!" the man screamed. "I want him dead! Gisborne! I think I'm dying...save me."

Gisborne pulled free his sword then, motioning to the guards to take pursuit of the Nightwatchman as he lingered behind.

Another arrow followed from above and people and guards ducked away.

Robin stared at the figure that did not make a move to flee but instead shot another arrow down over the heads of the crowd. Then all hell broke loose as more and more arrows rained down. Robin turned around to see that another figure was shooting from the other side of the castle.

Now he was fully convinced his mind was tricking him, for it was the Nightwatchman all over again.

"Get them! Get them all!" the sheriff was still yelling, but as more and more arrows came down over the head of the guards they ducked out of the way and Vaysey followed their example, Gisborne long having done so.

Robin had trouble keeping track of things, as he saw Allan pushing Much forward and John thrusting against the hangman, making him fall back over. Then an arrow landed inches over Robin's head, splitting the wood of the post he was bound at, and his attention was fully drawn to that fact. By now all guards had left Robin's side, save for the one who had placed himself closest to him earlier.

The man now turned to Robin, bravely ignoring all the arrows that flew about them, and lifted his sword, bringing it down in front of him a split-second later. With a snap the rope broke Robin's hands free from their confines. His knees finally gave way under him. He caught himself halfway down, too worn to try and stand. Slowly he cradled his head in his sore arms, breathing in short, quick gasps.

A moment later he was pulled up. "Robin, come on."

Robin looked up and recognized Will in the guard's uniform.

"We need to get away from here," the man told him and Robin knew he was right, but felt he had no control over his body that refused to take even a single step. "Robin!" Will called again, dragging him forward, while people were pushing around them, still fleeing from the rain of arrows.

It did not feel at all like it was he himself who was running. Robin could only watch with tired interest as his legs moved to follow Will's way, he himself not even fully aware of voluntary movement. They had to go, this was the only thing he knew. Moving his legs did on their own, ignoring all the pain and exhaustion Robin was feeling.

"Not far anymore," Will told him then and Robin wanted to believe him, knowing he would never be able to run from Nottingham back into the forest.

Will pulled him around another corner and there stood two horses. Will unbound them quickly and then moved to help Robin mount one of them.

"I'm alright," the man said, glad when he was up and could finally just hold on.

"Take this," Will said, pulling the bow and the quiver of arrows from his back. "Not as good as your usual kind, but better than nothing, I guess."

Robin took the weapons, hoping he would not actually have to use them, as the imagination of even drawing the bow seemed too much of an exertion. "Thanks." As Will mounted the other horse, he added, "What about the others?" He wondered if John, Much and Allan had managed to escape, and if the two figures of the Nightwatchman of who Robin knew one to be Marian and guessed the other to be Djaq had managed to flee the guards sent after them.

"Djaq and Marian are going to take care of them," Will said quickly, driving his horse on. Robin did the same and soon they were racing through the streets, on their way out of town, if not anyone was to hold them up.

John knew they had to act quickly. When the arrows started flying over the heads of guards and outlaws alike he thrust himself against the hangman who was really the only one still trying to keep the outlaws at bay instead of ducking away. At the same moment, Allan shoved Much forward to get away from the gallows.

"No, we have to get to Robin," the man protested.

"We have to go," John said decisively, pulling Much along, bound hands or not, off into the crowd that neither dared to hinder John nor was very keen on staying where they were, considering the arrows flying around. Allan followed on Much's heels, who was still glancing around to see what was happening. John kept pushing his way through the crowd until he saw a guard coming their way but not watching out for them. Another thrust and the guard fell, dropping his sword. With fumbling hands John picked it up and lifted it.

"Hold out your hands," he ordered Much and after a moment's confusion the man did so and John freed him. In the course of seconds all three outlaws were rid of their bonds and rushed through the streets of Nottingham.

"Robin. He's gone," Much called from behind John and the man turned to see that the post Robin had been held at was indeed empty.

"He got away," John decided, if only to make Much move along. Somebody had freed Robin, he was pretty sure of that, but they had no time to check. John had no desire to go back into the dungeons. The waiting for the hanging had not been pleasant and the added agitation of Robin being taken away had not improved the situation.

Allan was coming after the two other men, having found himself a sword. John hurried on, wondering about the man. He had not told them so, but he had heard part of what Much and Allan had been discussing in the dungeons during the night. It had confused John as to what was going on in Allan's mind. The way he had asked about Robin... John didn't like it much. They hadn't even known then that Robin was still alive, but they all had to know that they could always trust the man.

John watched the people they were hurrying through suspiciously though. The way they had treated the outlaws the day before did not promise well. They were leaving them alone however, but maybe it was just John's expression that made them do so.

This luck did not hold the while way out of the town. They were already close to the gate that led out of the town when several people started shouting and pointing a them.

"There are the outlaws!"

"Don't let them get away!"

Two men tried to catch Much who was the only of the three outlaws without a sword. Much fought them off at first, before another man jumped at him. Then Allan came running, swinging his sword.

"Let him go!" he called. "We don't want to hurt you."

The man released Much, staring at Allan. Then Allan went down, when a guard suddenly appeared behind him, hitting him over the head with the flat side of his sword. John pushed through the people that were blocking his way to the other outlaw, but Much was faster.

"Leave him be," he shouted, skirting over and trying to pull Allan up before the guard could stab down on him. John watched with horror as the sheriff's man turned his aim slightly and brought his sword down on Much instead.

The blade cut into flesh and the outlaw let out a groan as he still tried to drag his comrade away. Then John was there, thrusting his sword into the guard, while Allan and Much steadied each other. Blood was running from the latter's side.

"Much...."

The man was looking down at himself. Then he lifted his head and John could see an expression in his eyes that he had not seen before.

"Robin!" he exclaimed then and John thought at first he planned to go looking for Robin now, in his state of all things. But it were two horses that were racing up to them he was looking at. Will reached them first, Robin hold up by a crowd of people for some moments.

"Will," John called and the man turned to look at the three outlaws who were on foot. "Get Much out of here. He's hurt."

Will looked at the man, sliding from the horse, and saw the bleeding wound in the other man's side. "Where's Djaq?"

"We haven't seen her," Allan spoke up, apparently still dizzy from the hit to the head.

"She's one of the Nightwatchmen," Will explained at the same moment that Robin reached them as well. "Get on the horse, Much."

The man shook his head. "Your leg. It's injured. You can't walk back to the forest!"

"I can walk," Robin offered, but John threw him a glance that told him clearly that there would be no discussion about that. The older man knew instinctively that the other was only being stubborn.

"You two, you go!" he said firmly. He helped Much up the horse and sent it off alongside with Robin's.

People were still staring at the remaining outlaws but none of them dared to approach them again. Just as a new group of guards were hurrying from the castle into their direction, a smaller figure was running up to them as well. She wore the clothes that characterized the Nightwatchman, but she was not wearing the mask anymore and John was relieved to see Djaq back with them.

"Robin? Much?" she called, somewhat out of breath.

"They've made it," Will nodded towards her and all four of them set out to finally leave Nottingham.

As they were running through the gate and over the drawbridge, John could hear Djaq questioning Will, "Why did you not go by horse together with Robin as we had planned?"

"Much is hurt. He had to take the horse."

John could see that the young man was still not comfortable running and determined for himself to stay behind him. He would not let the sheriff's men capture him again.

"Is it bad?" Djaq asked then, as they were leaving the bridge behind.

"I'm sure you can help him," Will stated firmly.

Djaq was silent on the matter and followed Allan along the trail marking the quickest way to the forest. John looked ahead to see if he could still make out the horses with Robin and Much, but the riders had already vanished from sight. They would meet back at camp and John hoped that everyone fared well enough until then.

TBC