Note: Hi again! Soo recently I came across a Robin Hood Musical that changed my plans for the fanfic. It gave me new ideas about where the story could go and my outline keeps growing in chapters, so from the looks of it, the ff will last for quite a while. I sincerely hope you stay around for the rest!

This chapter follows the first interaction of Robin and Will in which they both hold the knowledge of their relation. I wanted to make it fluffy buuuut I also live for people butting heads, so here is the outcome…

Chapter 4: The Secret

The dim glow of a dying fire barely illuminated the narrow space in the tent when Robin came inside. He added more wood on passing the hearth, casting a faint flicker across. Then he turned to the person he south.

Will lay on his makeshift bed, barely discernible under layers of blankets. A frown was troubling his face, having fallen asleep yet again.

For some time he observed the rise and fall of his chest, contemplating whether it was better to wait for him to awaken on his own. Unable to make up his mind, Robin sat down beside the makeshift bedroll. Maybe it was better to wait. Will needed to rest in order to get better.

Seated beside him, a surge of emotions coursed through his body, leaving him trembling in nerves.

Could it be true? Could this young man, lying defenceless before him, be his younger half-brother?

The possibility tugged at Robin's heartstrings, the mere thought stirring a whirlwind of feelings within him. He traced the features on Will's face, noting the resemblance in the shape of their face or the curve of their jawline. It was a peculiar sensation, witnessing such similarities in a stranger. Things he never before searched for.

The idea that he might have a brother, something he had yearned for as a child, filled him with a surge of excitement for some reason.

Alongside this fervent hope danced a feeling of doubt. What if it was merely a coincidence, the name Annabel Scarlett. A trick of fate playing with his emotions? The mere prospect of losing what he thought to have gained clawed at his heart. What was happening to him?

As he watched Will's restless slumber, a knot formed in Robin's stomach. Will had told him he didn't know his father. What a damn shame if the man was indeed Robert of Locksley.

A sudden weight of responsibility settled on Robin's shoulders. If they were truly bound by blood, it was his duty to protect him, to guide him, to be there for him in ways he had his father be there for him when he was younger.

Will continuously shifted and tossed, deep lines of pain cutting into his features as he did, betraying the torment he was enduring. Beads of sweat blistered on his forehead. Perhaps it was just water from the towel Robin used a couple of hours ago to cool his forehead, he quickly reasoned with himself. But still, his lips were drawn into a thin line of discomfort. His breathing came out shallow and uneven, painfully familiar for Robin.

Memories of his mother's illness plagued his mind. The helplessness he felt during those times. The fear. She became mere bones in her final days. Will had hardly drank anything since their rescue, let alone eaten.

Without comprehending what exactly he was doing, Robin reached to the dishevelled strands of hair that clung to Will's damp forehead. His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, replacing it with his palm instead. It was quite obvious that he was running a fever, but he checked anyway.

On touching Will's skin, strong heat forced him to retrieve his hand.

Why couldn't a miracle happen and bring his temperature back to normal already?

Will stirred from the touch, his brow furrowing. Robin watched as his eyes slowly fluttered open, unfocused and bleary, struggling against sleep's weight.

The deep furrow on the younger man's brow lessened as his eyes focused on Robin's face. Recognition sparked in his gaze.

"Robin?" His voice was hoarse.

"Hey, Will." Robin hesitated on saying anything else, his hands curling in trembling fists. Maybe it was the cold of the tent making him shiver, maybe it was the nerves coursing through his body.

What should he say to him?

How to even start?

Whether to start at all or simply wait until Will got better before holding this conversation?

"How are you feeling?" he finally asked.

Will's gaze narrowed. "You asked me that already." The younger man shifted on the makeshift bed, wincing in the process as he turned his back to Robin, making it clear how in the mood he was at the moment for a chat. "Nothing has changed since."

A mouth corner on Robin's face lifted despite himself. If he got his temper back, Will was going to be fine. Besides, he clearly remembered their conversation from a couple of hours ago when he asked him how he was doing. Perhaps he just looked worse for the wear than he was actually doing?

"Will, there's something I need to ask you." Robin paused, waiting for him to turn around. A sudden urge to talk, to clear out the absurd conclusion his mind was jumping at, made him try again to hold a conversation with Will. He needed to ask. He couldn't wait. Not when this man before him could be the last link he had to his father. Yet Will remained facing the opposite direction. Robin almost gave up on waiting, when Will finally glanced over his shoulder.

"Well? What do you want?" he croaked, his voice barely audible.

Robin took a deep breath. "We need to talk about… something," he said, the words slipping out in a rush, yet ending in hesitance.

Will lifted himself into a seated position with a strained sigh, blinking in confusion.

"Talk about what?"

They were now sitting at an eye level. Will crossed his arms around his knees, keeping them close to his chest in an attempt to preserve as much heat as possible.

The faint flicker of the fire under this angle allowed Robin for the first time to see the dark circles adorning Will's eyes. The complexion of his skin had become almost colourless. This relentless fever had drained the life from Will's face. Suddenly it was almost comforting to see his cheeks burning with heat. At least this heat was a sign of life.

He hesitated on speaking on the matter further. Perhaps he should first see to Will getting something inside him? His eyes wandered to a water-skin close to their makeshift beds and he bent forward to reach it. "Are you thirsty?"

Will shook his head, looking at him.

The water-skin felt light under Robin's grip. He crushed it with his hand as if to prove his suspicion that it was empty.

"Hungry?" he tried again, but was met by the same shake of his head.

Robin sighed, lowering the water-skin on the fur-covered ground. Even in his fevered state Will was too stubborn to take on an offer coming from him. He drank the potion Robin gave him earlier, so there was that. Yet back then Will didn't look at him with such scepticism. He was definitely regaining his old self back.

He studied the younger man up close.

His most adamant adversary in camp.

Who could turn out to be his last living relative.

"Talk about what?" Will croaked again, slight impatience audible in his voice. He was shivering ever so slightly, looking at Robin dead in the eye.

Right.

How to broach the subject?

If there was even a right a way.

His grey eyes were dancing with uncertainty. What if he was wrong to assume they could be related and he was about to make a fool of himself in front of Will Scarlett?

"About... about Annabel Scarlett."

A flicker of surprise crossed Will's face, quickly masked by a guarded expression. "What about her?"

Robin took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. Was there a delicate way in which to suggest Will's mother to be the mistress he knew? The disrespect in his assumption! What if Will's mother was a different woman? What if it was just a sheer coincidence in name? His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, as if that would help him focus. But Robin didn't come here to talk to Will just because the name matched. There were just too many coincidences. "John said she was your mother."

Will's gaze hardened and a defensive edge creeped into his voice. "So?"

The tension in the air was palpable. But there was no going back now.

"If she is your mother," Robin began, choosing his words carefully, his eyes darting to their surroundings and returning back to Will. "Then... then we might share the same father."

Will's eyes widened. His fingers seized the blanket covering his legs. Crumpling it in his tight grip, he forced an expression of indifference. "What are you talking about?"

Robin's heart pounded in his chest. "My father, he had a mistress named Annabel Scarlett. If she's your mother, then… We could be brothers." His voice was a mere whisper now, as if afraid the words might shatter the fragile balance in the tent.

Will's fevered gaze fell to his lap, his hands clenched into fists. "No," he muttered, almost as if talking to himself.

Robin searched his face for any hint that this improbable connection might be a product of his imagination. Yet everything about Will Scarlett's reaction led him to believe it wasn't. It couldn't be. His expression was guarded, tense. Not dumbfounded, shocked, or even amused. Not for a moment he allowed Robin to believe that what he told him was an unknown revelation for him.

"That doesn't prove anything," Will said, his troubled eyes dancing around the tent. Looking anywhere but at Robin.

Robin exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping. "I thought... so many things align..." Will couldn't meet his gaze. His fingers were fidgeting with the edges of the blanket. He was nervous. He was lying. Robin breathed in deeply. "Don't they, Will?"

Will lifted his head, irritation radiating off him. "You're just creating a story that isn't true."

"The things you told me back in the cave…"

"Even if that were true," he interrupted him, his eyes wide with exasperation, "What difference would it make?"

Robin swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on Will's face. "I don't know," he admitted, the uncertainty ringing clear in his voice. "A big difference, Will. This would make us brothers."

There was a long moment of silence before Will finally spoke again. "Your mind is running wild because of some coincidence," he muttered, his tone final.

Robin lingered for a moment longer. Taking a deep breath, he couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment.

But maybe Will was right. Maybe some truths were better left buried. Robin couldn't force a connection that wasn't there.

Squaring his shoulders, he rose to his feet.

Perhaps it was best to leave. They could continue this conversation some other day.

Or forget they ever had it.

He needed some air.

Yet he stopped before he could leave the tent.

Could he really let this chance slip away, not without trying first? They could be bound by blood, for God's sake!

"Will," Robin said, turning around, his voice firmer now. Whatever fears Will Scarlett was battling, Robin wasn't one to tolerate lies and deception.

"What do you want?"

As he strode back, Will's brow furrowed in confusion, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

"The truth," Robin insisted. "Was the father you didn't know the same as mine?"

Will Scarlett was stubborn, no question about that, but so was Robin. He had heard it all his life from the people he loved - if he set his mind on something, he became unreasonable. Clearly Will wanted to keep his secrets to himself. Perhaps the right thing to do was to respect his wish. But he couldn't. He wanted to know. Living in oblivion was not something he could do.

There was another long pause, the silence stretching between them as Will seemed to weight Robin's words.

"I told you it's not the same Annabel!" he snapped, turning away.

Curling his hands into fists, Robin watched the younger man with growing impatience. Didn't he know how bad of a liar he was? He didn't even ask what made Robin so certain they could share the same father, he just started straight with rejecting everything he would say.

"Then tell me about your mother."

Will's wide eyes darted back to Robin, watching in alarm as he retook his seat on the ground beside the makeshift bed. The shock turned into anger. Robin watched the way Will's knuckles turned white from crumpling the edge of the blanket too tightly.

"Locksley, you're being ridiculous!"

Robin lifted his shoulders, watching him with calm eyes, yet nothing inside him was as composed as he pretended. "Please, Will. If you have nothing to hide, you shouldn't be this defensive."

Will hesitated, his gaze shifting away before returning to meet Robin's earnest stare. The mask of indifference he wore seemed to crack and a vulnerability he hadn't allowed Robin to see before began to shine through. He was afraid, that much was obvious. But had Robin given him a reason to think he was a man that needed to be feared? He sincerely hoped not.

Will's damp hair fell forward, shielding his face as he considered what to do now. Robin waited patiently, bracing himself for more lies. But to his surprise, when Will looked up, a storm was brewing within his eyes. "What do you want from me?"

"I want the truth," Robin repeated, his tone unwavering. "I want to know why you're so hell-bent on keeping us as strangers when we're tied by blood."

How reasonable and normal he all made it out to sound. As if he wasn't terrified from the truth himself. His heartbeats turned painful in his chest. Like he said to Azeem earlier, he didn't know whether he wanted it to be true or not. Having, out of all people, Will Scarlett for a younger brother. It was bound to be challenging. Yet he felt like he already knew the answer to his question. He just wanted Will to confirm it, so Robin could have some peace of mind.

Will's jaw clenched. "You want the truth?" he spat, his voice edged with bitterness. His fists tightened as emotions surged within him, his eyes blistering with tears. "Fine! Annabel is my mother, and our father... your father abandoned me before I even took my first breath because of you!"

The revelation hit Robin like a physical blow. Even though he expected it, he still wasn't prepared to hear it, not like that. His eyes darted left and right over Will's feeble expression. The fury in his eyes was mixed with other emotions. There was insecurity, a lot of it. Also pain. Fear. He had never seen Will Scarlett so afraid before, not even when they faced death together in the cave.

A shiver ran down Robin's spine, the revelation slowly downing to him. "We're brothers," he murmured, his voice softer now.

"You think blood means something?" Will spat, channelling the anger inside him. "Not to me!"

His father had another son.

Lord Almighty.

How could this be?

Robin returned his shaken gaze to Will. "We're brothers," he heard himself say again, his voice distant to his ears. "No matter what you say or do, it's a part of who we are."

Will grit his teeth but his voice lost some of its strength. "Yeah, well, it's a part I'd rather forget."

Deep lines of confusion cut through Robin's forehead. He didn't understand him. How could he live his life pretending they didn't have the same blood coursing through their veins?

"You can't hide from this forever," he said in disbelief.

Will's head snapped back in his direction, his lips twisted with rage. "I'm not hiding!"

"Yes, you are!" Robin's voice rose, a strain evident. Whatever patience he had inside him was running thin from having every word he said be rejected without a moment of hesitance. His bewildered eyes travelled over Will's face. Why was he so difficult all the time?

"I'm just saying this changes nothing!" Will said, his eyes wide with exasperation.

"It changes everything!" Robin retorted, his voice breaking with emotion.

Will crossed his arms with a heavy sigh and looked at him with clear defiance in his feverish eyes. That stubborn shimmer was making Robin's blood boil.

How could this change nothing when they shared the same father? The same father, for God's sake! His father, the father he lost. They shared him. They shared the man Robin missed so so much.

This newfound brother of his must have had enough with their conversation because he decided to say nothing more. Just silently stared at Robin, waiting for him to back down.

Well, tough luck.

"Damn it, Will. Why didn't you tell me?"

Will shrugged and looked away. Robin breathed in deeply. He could feel a headache forming. Closing his eyes for a moment, he rubbed his temple, and forced his voice to calm down, "Are you sure it's true?"

He could feel Will's gaze turn on him again. So Robin let go of his temple and opened his eyes.

Seeing Will struggling to maintain his composure caught him off guard. Why was he fighting back tears all of a sudden?

Something in Robin's chest tightened. What did he miss?

"Are you suggesting my mother slept around with other men?" Will asked, his voice wavering with emotion.

Robin's lips parted, taken aback. His words suggested that, didn't they?

"No…"

"You just said that," Will venomously spat.

"Will, I didn't mean to suggest…"

"Yes, you did!"

Robin closed his eyes.

He didn't want them to be on bad terms. Not any longer.

But Will seemed to be looking for a reason to read his words wrong. He just gave him one.

When Robin opened his eyes, he forced a slow breath in and out.

The rain outside resumed a gentle pattern against the roof of their tent, a faint echo of the storm they faced together a few days ago.

"I'm sorry for my thoughtless question," he said sincerely.

Will fixed him with a vicious look. His lips, usually sharp with defiance, now trembled with emotion.

Robin lifted his shoulders, sincere in his confession, "I didn't see this coming. Everything aligns with it being true and I have no reason to doubt anything. It's just a lot to take in."

Will looked away, remaining mute.

Robin breathed in deeply. "Did my father… our father know?"

He observed the younger man battle more tears as he shook his head.

"No. My mom never told him."

Something in Robin's chest tightened for a second time. How unfair that his father lived and died without knowing he had another son.

"Oh my God…" Pulling back, Robin covered his face when a sudden realization hit him. He rubbed his warm face profoundly, murmuring, "What have I done?"

If he hadn't pressured his father into leaving his mistress, they all would have known about Will's existence. He would have had a brother.

"You ruined it for me," Will felt the need to rub it in. Robin lowered his hands with a sigh. "Because of your egotistical whims, I didn't get to have a proper family."

"I can't change the past."

"You could apologize."

"I'm sorry."

Will scratched his eyebrow with a dumbfounded expression. He must have not expected one.

"I'm sorry for what I have done to you," Robin continued.

"And to my mother."

Robin swallowed. "And to her."

Looking down, Will's damp hair fell over his eyes. He shook his head, his lips forming a thin line. "That's not gonna cut it."

"I know." A painful pulsation was spreading from Robin's temple to the back of his head. Rubbing the pain away, he tried to focus. For some time he studied Will's face up-close. He was beginning to see also similarities with his father. Their father. From the profile, he looked awfully similar to him. Robin felt a tightness in his throat.

He remembered wishing to have a little brother. It was a dream of his back when he was a boy. If he had known his father's mistress would one day make this dream of his come true, surely he would have mellowed down... how different life would have been for all of them then.

"If I could go back and change-"

"Well, you can't," Will's voice snapped him out of his melancholic thoughts. "So, thanks for ruining my life!"

The intensity in his words startled Robin. Will attempted to rise to his feet, putting an abrupt end to their conversation. His weakened state betrayed him, or perhaps he had forgotten his left foot wasn't quite alright, and he stumbled almost immediately, collapsing against the fireplace.

"Easy there!" Robin grasped his arm, already on his feet, drawing him away from the flames. A deja vu hit him for a moment, his mind returning back to the cave. What was with this boy and falling into fire?

But the better question was: Where was he going in his current state?

Breathing in deeply, Robin tried to tame the irritation surging inside him, and his voice came out relatively composed, "Sit down, Will. You're burning up."

"Let me go!" Will tried to yank his arm free.

Robin didn't want to go against his wishes. Yet he didn't let go. He knew him well enough to anticipate that the moment he did that, Will would rush outside. He wasn't going to let him do that in his current condition.

Instead, he put his other hand on Will's back. Part of him wanted to stay on Will's good side, not to antagonize him. But another part of him had enough. Couldn't he sit down and talk to him for God's sake?

With brows knotted in anger, Robin guided the confused youth down to his makeshift bed. Will's confusion was replaced by resistance. So Robin applied some force in his attempt to bring him down. That mule resisted him with all his might, digging his soles into the ground. But eventually his knees gave in to Robin's push and Will resumed his spot on the makeshift bed.

Glancing at him from the side from where he was squatting, Robin noticed Will's eyes had welled up with tears.

He was trapped, caught between the fever's torment and Robin's grip.

"Will, please," Robin said, his voice softer now. The last thing he wanted was to upset him. "Stay put." He released his hold and lifted the blankets, hoping Will would lay back down.

But immediately he tried to leap on his feet again.

Robin snatched him by the arm right away, somehow expecting he'd do that. "What are you doing?" he asked, holding him down. "Where are you going?" Despite the irritation bubbling inside him, he tried his best to remain patient. The resistance in Will's eyes prepared him to brace himself.

"I don't want to talk to you!" Will growled, trying to free his arm.

To Robin's surprise, he had plenty of strength in him.

So Robin let him go and raised his palm in surrender. "Then we don't have to talk anymore."

Something told him Will would react emotionally to whatever he said or did. It was best to do nothing more.

Will's wild eyes darted to his exit and he prepared to push his weight up with his palms. Of course...

"Will," Robin said, a hint of a warning in his voice. He hoped this brother of his would know better than to try to go outside a third time.

"I want to go to my own tent!" Will snapped, looking at him in bewilderment.

That was a fair demand. Robin didn't hold the power to decide for him what he could or couldn't do. Yet, what if Will in his current state decided to take off in the night, afraid his secret had come to light?

It sure sounded like the Will Scarlett he knew.

His condition was bad as it was, there was no way he would let him leave here right now. He did this mistake once. Will was half dead when he returned into the cave.

He couldn't let him go. Not until they cleared things. Not until they found peace among each other.

Robin rose to his feet with a sigh, preparing to return to his edge of the tent. Perhaps giving him space for now would get him to calm down. "Stay the night," he suggested. "You can move to your tent tomorrow."

Despite his attempt to deescalate their conflict, Will began to shake, hands tightly curled into fists. "You don't get to tell me what to do!"

A rush of anger washed through Robin, a rush so strong it stopped him in his step, and he was about to snap back and send Will off into the night when his resolve faltered all of a sudden.

He caught the pain-in-the-ass wipe away a tear. It was a quick brush of his hand off his cheek. But Robin immediately knew he had teared up.

The Will Scarlett he knew would never lose his composure.

But this wasn't the young man he had come to know, not entirely. He was much weakened. Wrecked for days by a relentless fever, in pain by injuries Robin had credit for, both the physical ones and the emotional.

Immediately guilt ate at Robin's consciousness. He had crossed a line, hadn't he? He shouldn't have grabbed him like that. He should have used reason only, without any force.

To his bigger surprise, and much to his relief, Will laid down then, and, without saying a word, turned his back on Robin.

It quickly became obvious to him why he did it.

Robin watched as Will's back rose and fell in jagged rhythms. He didn't make a sound though. If Robin hadn't caught him wipe away a tear, he might have missed that he was struggling to compose himself and blame his discomfort on his difficulty breathing. But he knew. While facing his back, he caught him rubbing his face with his palms.

Robin stood there by his own bedside, like a deer caught in open land, unsure of what to do.

He should have waited before approaching Will. He was clearly not in the right condition to deal with this conversation. Of course he would try to get away. That was Will Scarlett after all.

Robin kept silent, crushed by the weight of his impulsive actions.

But what was he supposed to do? Let him go outside in the rain? In his condition?

Letting go of the air trapped in his lungs, Robin took a seat on the ground and clenched his jaw.

He couldn't recall the last time he made someone cry. Possibly during one of his fights with his father many years ago.

A lump formed in his throat. Guess that officially made them family.

Fiddling nervously with the animal fur that covered the ground of the tent, Robin dared another glance at Will. The reasonable half of him tried to convince him he didn't do anything wrong, Will was too reckless for his own good and he needed to stay warm. Yet the other half couldn't bare the guilt he felt. This whole situation could have been avoided.

"I'm... I'm really sorry," Robin said when the rigid movements of Will's chest stilled. "I just... I wanted to talk, to clear things up, but I see now... I should've waited."

Will remained silent with his back turned on him.

"I know you're scared. And I get it." Robin hung his head low and brushed through his hair. "I guess this is... weird for both of us," he continued cautiously, his eyes fixing on a non-existent spot on the tent floor. "I mean, suddenly realizing we're family, but not having a single memory to share... I don't expect you to open up to me now, or ever, if you don't want to. But I want you to know... I'm here. Whenever you're ready."

From the corner of his eye he caught Will's gaze darting to his escape. Yet he didn't make another attempt at getting on his feet. Fleetingly he glanced over his shoulder, meeting Robin's eyes. The brief second was enough for Robin to see his eyes were shining with insecurity.

Even though Will had a grip of himself once again, the trembling of his form continued. It took Robin some time to realize his distress was not solely emotional. The fever that had been silently brewing had now seized control of him, sending painful convulsions through his body.

After what felt like an eternity of watching him suffer, Robin hesitantly came closer.

His hand found its way to Will's forehead. The heat nearly scalded against his palm. "You're burning up," he muttered, trying not to show his worry. Will weakly slapped his hand away, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. But Robin could swear his gaze was pleading for respite from the torment ravaging his body.

Fumbling for the water-skin nearby, Robin remembered it was empty once he took a hold of it.

"Hang on," he murmured, his heart beating painfully in his chest. "I'll get more water."

Outside, he stumbled upon Azeem almost immediately. His friend said he heard raised voices and came out to intervene if needed. Robin poured water into the water-skin, assuring him there was no threat, at least no threat he needed his assistance for at the moment. Unless he knew how to magically relieve Will of his fever, to which Azeem only shook his head apologetically. Every now and then Robin cast a glance back at the tent he shared with Will, as if expecting to see him sneak out. But another part of him knew his health was too poor for that now.

"Here, try to drink," he offered the water-skin to Will's shivering figure.

After draining it until the last drop, Will left the empty water-skin aside and sunk back against the bedding, closing his dazed eyes. The rhythm of his breaths steadied under Robin's gaze with time. His trembling too gradually subsided.

Finally able to relax, Robin rubbed his eyes, his expression one of remorse. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I keep stirring up trouble for you or so it seems."

Will glanced up briefly. "I believe you, now move away," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Robin did.

Will's tired eyes followed him as he went away to the other end of the tent. "I want you to stop," he said, his weak voice laced with irritation. "I don't like this. I don't want to be friends. I don't want your concern. It's too late for all of that. I don't want or need your concern. It's bothering me."

Robin looked at him strangely, trying to understand. Just as he opened his mouth, he was interrupted.

"And stop being so pushy!" Will added as an afterthought. "It's annoying!"

Blinking with a dumbfounded expression, the urge to smile arose in Robin but he tried to keep a straight face. "Pushy?"

"Yes, you expect me to do as you tell me." Will raised his hand in frustration. "Like did I ask you for your opinion? No!"

This time around Robin did smile but quickly chose wiser and cleared his throat to mask it. "I'm sorry I came across this way to you, this is simply how I am."

"Well, it's annoying!" Will's voice raised to a falsetto, the way Robin had noticed it would go when truly irritated. Then he cast his troubled gaze down, avoiding Robin's eye. "I don't want anything to change. Just because we share the same blood doesn't make us close. Maybe with time…" he began to say but stopped, unsure of himself.

For Robin, it was enough. A smile formed on his lips. This time he didn't try to hide it. "It's okay. I will stop being 'pushy'. But I'm here. I will be here whenever you want to talk to me."

Lifting his gaze, Will searched his face. His eyes were unsure. Fearful. Irritated. "Did the storm did something to your head?" he asked hoarsely, slightly out of breath. "I'm pretty sure we didn't like each other. Either I'm too sick and hallucinating or you have lost your senses."

"I know," Robin said, smiling a little. "I don't expect a miracle here," he offered quietly and rose to his feet. On his way out of the tent, he stopped by Will's side, reached down and ruffled his sweat-drenched hair. "But I'm past how we used to treat each other."

"Locksley," Will said in warning through gritted teeth, trying to evade the touch.

"Yes, Will?" he asked, feigning innocence, and resumed his pace to the flap.

He could feel the dark expression following him. "Stop with that!"

Sick or not, this one always had the strength to be angry. In fact, in this very moment, as Robin stole a glance over his shoulder, he found Will to be looking strangely like himself. Eyes dark with irritation and chin high with self-worth.

Robin regarded him with a boyish smile, stopping before the exit. "And if I don't?"

Will opened and closed his mouth, growing red in the face.

Robin snorted under his breath.

Without looking back, he exited into the cool night, accompanied by colourful curses shouted at his back.

Soft raindrops fell on top of his head. Robin glanced up at the dark sky. This foul weather. He had no desire to stay outside for long. His eyes scanned his surroundings.

He wanted to assure his friend that he could go back to his warm tent. Knowing Azeem, he was still lurking outside. Or he better. Since he swore an oath to protect him and all.

"I see you two are making progress." Azeem emerged from the shadows, startling him, just a little. "What did you do for him to have such kind words to say about you?"

Robin scratched his chin with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Nothing."

"Don't ever come to me to complain about the young man. I know that the issue is you, Christian."

Robin's jaw dropped in feign shock, though his mouth corners twitched ever so slightly, "Now what do you mean by that? I didn't do anything."

"I believe you as much as I believe that the weather in this country will get better."

"It will. You'll see."

"I am waiting. So?" Azeem asked, stopping before the tent he was using, eager to escape the soft rain. "Is it true?"

Robin nodded and rested a hand on Azeem's shoulder. "Keep this a secret, my friend. I believe Will would not want anyone to know and I don't want to make the situation any more difficult than it is." His eyes settled on the tent where Will was resting. "Out of all people, I'm actually glad it's Will Scarlett."

"Really now?"

"Coming to think of it, he must be the most amusing person I could possibly have as a younger brother."

"The boy has my sympathy… but beware Christian, you know very well he is not harmless."

Robin glanced over his shoulder, headed back to the tent he shared with Will.

"Yes, he is."

"He will heal," Azeem tried to warn.

Robin hoped for that to happen.

Will was out of it once again when he returned inside. Or he pretended to be, but that was fine as well.

Robin slipped under the covers of his own makeshift bed on the other side of the tent. As soon as warmness embraced him, a sigh escaped his trembling lips.

The same revelation kept repeating in his mind.

He had a brother.

A little brother.

This man over there was his blood.

A furrow cut through his forehead.

He didn't know how to be a brother.

Whether Will would want him as his big brother was another question.

How strange.

From the corner of his eye he kept an eye on Will.

How strange, yet wonderful.

A warmness spread in his chest. The trembling of his body from the sudden change in temperature subdued.

A brother.

The corner of his mouth lifted faintly.

A troublemaker of a brother, too impulsive for his own good.

How much time they had missed out on.

He could have watched him grow up, he could have had a best friend now. But they weren't strangers either. At least no longer.

Robin raised the blanket to his chin and turned on his side so he could better see Will. He had gotten to know him a little in the past few days, more so than in the past month. Even though Will would not be easy to befriend, Robin decided to be patient.

He could feel it already.

They would one day grow close.

He just needed to win Will's trust first.

Before he did that, Will had to get better. He had to win against the stubborn fever tormenting him. He touched his own forehead with the back of his head. It felt warm under his touch. He also needed to get better. Robin's whole body began to ache now that he allowed himself to relax.

So many responsibilities waited for him. The inhabitants in the forest had more than doubled in the past weeks. They had to make a better settlement. These tents were just a temporary solution to the rain. If they ought to spend more time here in Sherwood, all together, they had to build proper homes. So that every family could have a hearth to warm them in the cold nights.

His eyes darted yet again to the sleeping figure of Will, making his heart skip a beat.

He also had a responsibility towards him.

Will's defensiveness was a protective mechanism. Robin recognized as much. He had acted out too in a similar way once, like everyone was his enemy and only he knew what was right for him. If he was his older brother from this day on, then it was his responsibility to guide him on a healthier path.

It sounded strange in his ears, calling himself the older brother to Will Scarlett. But for some reason, the thought made him smile.

Note: This must be the chapter I enjoyed writing most so far. Next up, the story takes a new turn by introducing another character and shifting the POV. I know that writing original characters is a tricky thing. This often turns out to be a mood killer for me when I read fanfics, so yes, I am walking on thin ice here. However, this story can't work without its wicked witch. You will see for yourself next week that her role is pivotal in the unfolding of the coming events…