Heavy mist gathered as droplets in the forest, sending down a constant drip, drip, drip… chilling the air and blocking out the sun.

Inside the shelter Will had created, Robin surveyed his gang. Will and Djaq were seated side by side, he whittling arrows, she tying on feathers. Much and John were busy sharpening and shining blades of swords, knives, and hatchets. And as for Marian…

Marian was seated alone, staring off into nothingness, her face tragic, her eyes blank, her shoulders slumped.

Robin's heart twisted within him. He longed to help. He longed to hold her, comfort her, make her believe everything would be alright again. Turn back time, before her father was murdered. But he couldn't. She needed time to heal, and he was trying to provide it to her, without any disturbances from him.

He was glad…relieved, that she was here with his gang…with him, safe in the forest. But it was hard, on so many levels. She was suffering, and he felt powerless to help. And she was close, daily in his camp, nightly sleeping in Allan's former bunk, just feet from his, but he felt he should not touch her, kiss her the way he longed to, while she was mourning her father. And it was hard to shield her from danger. He couldn't send her out with his gang on missions, risking her being caught, or even seen among them. Lastly, it was hard to help the poor and thwart the Sheriff, without his beautiful spy in the castle, passing them information.

He needed to go to Nottingham to seek out information where he could, and he needed someone to go with him. Allan would have been perfect. Robin would have sent him to the Trip where Allan could have relaxed, enjoyed a normal life for a few hours, all the while gathering information the gang could use. But Allan had turned traitor.

Robin would never admit it, even to himself, but he missed Allan. He missed his abilities, his bravery and fighting skills, his clever mind and witty tongue. He missed his friendship.

He needed to choose someone. Or better yet, let them decide. The difficulty was he couldn't let Marian know.

She would want to accompany him, and she'd present convincing reasons why he should select her. And he'd refuse, and she'd be angry, and he'd return her anger. So it would go, as it always seemed to since he'd brought her here.

He needed to speak to his gang, without Marian overhearing.

Right, then. He had a plan. It wasn't good, more like half a plan, but it was something.

"Do me a favor?" he asked gently, seating himself beside her.

Marian looked up, grateful for his voice, his tone, his proximity. But mostly, grateful he was asking for her help. "What?" she asked.

"I need you to go to the stream, and get water." Jumping up, he grabbed a pail. It was nearly full. Much had filled it that morning.

"Dump this out first," Robin said. "It's not fresh."

Marian sighed, disappointed at the meager thing he asked, but too dejected to argue. Anything would be better than sitting here, useless, her mind dwelling again and again on learning her father was….was gone.

"I'll empty it," Robin said, carrying the pail for her. "You just refill it, and bring it back."

"Master," Much spoke up, "what are you doing? I got that water this morning!"

"I dropped something in it, Much. Marian's going to…bring us more."

Placing the pail on the ground by the lever that opened their shelter, Robin took Marian's cape and placed it lovingly over her shoulders. Just touching her sent shivers through him. "It's wet out there," he murmured, softly. "Can't have you catching a chill."

"Don't molly coddle me," Marian snapped.

"No one's molly coddling anyone," Robin snapped back.

He meant it. Yesterday, she had learned of his nightmares, and had tried to force him to discuss them, wanting to mother him. He wouldn't speak of them to anyone. He couldn't.

Robin pulled the lever, opening the camp, letting in the chilled air. Marian seized the pail and threw its water out, making sure to splash some of it on Robin. Without a word, she trudged away.

"Right then, lads," Robin said with purpose. "I need a volunteer."

Much's hand shot up.

"You don't even know what it's for, Much," Robin snickered.

"Is it something alone, or is it something with you? Because if it's alone, I withdraw my offer."

"I need someone to come with me to Nottingham. I need to learn what the Sheriff's up to. Will?"

Without even realizing it, Robin had chosen Will, believing him best for this particular job.

"Yeah, I'll go," Will agreed.

"John," Robin said, "Look after Marian."

"Master, what should I do?" Much wondered, despairingly.

"You, Much," Robin said affectionately, clamping a hand on his friend's shoulder, "stay here and look after the camp."

"Right. How?"

"Just do what you always do," Robin said, trying to stay patient. "We need to leave now."

"Before Marian returns?" Djaq asked.

Robin nodded, grimly.

"Too late," came a lovely voice, hard now from grief.

"You're back?" Robin asked, amazed she had returned so soon.

"I never left," Marian stated, angrily. "I heard every word, Robin of Locksley."