Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Many many MANY thanks and dedications to the wonderful Ihni, who not only Beta-ed (we think) this for me, but also made me laugh like an idiot in the middle of a very serious conversation (which I was clearly paying so much attention to) and made me insanely happy for a good two days when I was otherwise very sad. Thank you!

Hopefully this is clear but if not, italics are flashbacks.

Will awoke slowly the next morning, and when he did, he found himself wishing that he hadn't done so at all. His body ached and throbbed. Clutching his forehead in both hands, he rolled painfully to face the door of his hut. His hut? Sitting up carefully, he thought back over the previous night. He had fought with John, then fought with Wulf, silently reconciled with both of them over the campfire, drunk a frankly astounding amount of ale in one go and then? The rest was fuzzy, like trying to recall a dream. He was aware that he had spoken with somebody before leaving the fire for some reason. Another fight? It seemed the most likely explanation, Will knew (and had been told) that he could be…quarrelsome when inebriated – even more so than usual. He had also been told he could become rather over amorous but since no women currently resided in the camp, he hoped the reason had been the former rather than the latter. So, after leaving the others he had done what? He vaguely recalled Wulf, the woods and a melancholy which, coupled with the after effects of the drinking, made him want to stay abed the entire day and quite possibly a lot of the next. He could fill in virtually all of the blanks regarding the previous night except for the gap between whatever he was doing with Wulf and going to bed. He tried to think harder but his head was throbbing and he gave up after a while. After all, there were plenty of other nights where his memories were patchy at best and in some cases, non-existent – in fact, given the amount of alcohol he had consumed, he felt more than satisfied with his recollections.

He eased himself up further, his body screaming in protest and his stomach rolling unpleasantly. He knew he ought to go out and meet the day, there would be another hunting party setting out since the previous day's had been so rudely interrupted by Gisbourne. His stomach gave another lurch that had nothing to do with feeling unwell. The relief that had followed the attack had all but been replaced by guilt and concern over Wulf's close-escape. Will closed his eyes, seeing the soldiers bearing down upon his young friend and snatching him up before Will and the others had even moved. It had been too close. John was right, how could he let Wulf go out with Will and the others without him if he could not trust that Will at least, would be watching him? Grimacing as the effects of John's anger made themselves known once more, Will couldn't decide whether to hold on to his resentment or let it go. He recognised and could admit, to himself at least, that he had probably deserved it. John had trusted him with his boy and Will had let him down. The fact that the thrashing he had received because of it could actually have been an awful lot harder than it had been only served to make him feel worse. Suddenly, the humiliation of being beaten down as he had been in front of all the others hit him full force. Will had fought back with everything he had and yet John had been able to restrain him with one arm and strike him with the other. Furious tears welled in his eyes, it wasn't fair! Had it been virtually any other man, Will had no doubt that he would have been able to not only stop them but even get in plenty of punches himself. Unfortunately, John was not only much broader than Will was, he also towered head and shoulders over him and had a good fifteen years on Will. Even more unfortunately for Will, the one punch he had managed to land yesterday had shocked him so much that John had actually knocked him to the ground with his next shot.

Will sighed and finally stood, swaying and gagging slightly. Breathing heavily, he braced himself for the day. He felt sick and irritable but he opted to forgive John his violence. It seemed the more favourable option –John seemed to find his moods amusing more than anything else, but he would not hesitate to thrash him again if Will became too surly with him or Wulf. Besides, Will would have done far worse to anyone else who had come as close to losing Wulf as he had.

John's patience was wearing thin. From the moment he had arisen that morning, Wulf had been at his heel. Usually he wouldn't mind, if Wulf was with him then he wasn't off getting into mischief or falling out with Will again. John was no fool, and for all Will's arrogant facades and foul moods, John could always tell when he and Wulf had fallen out. After Wulf had returned dripping wet and with a scowl worthy of Scarlett himself, it had come as no great surprise to him when Will re-joined the camp and sat as far away from Wulf as possible, with Wulf making no move to approach him. His first instinct had in fact been to confront Scarlett about it, but since Wulf had not mentioned it and did not seem miserable over it, he decided to let it be. They would make up, as always.

And seemingly, they had. After John and Will's argument and Will had stormed off (an increasingly frequent occurrence), Wulf had trotted off in his wake as usual. When John had fetched Wulf a while later, he had been quiet but not as though he and Will had fought again. Therefore, it struck John as odd that on a clear, Summer's day such as this one, Wulf had waited patiently for John to rise and then followed him like a shadow for the rest of the morning. When he would ordinarily have bounded in and woken a hung-over Will far earlier than he would've liked and been curtly shooed out only to have Will stumble out perhaps ten minutes later clutching his head and snarling indignantly at having to 'keep an eye on' Wulf.

John had even gone so far as to suggest that Wulf go and wake Will. He himself was not suffering from the previous night but Wulf was beginning to try his patience. Initially, he had been pleased at the opportunity to speak privately with his boy but beyond that, he had hoped Wulf would leave him be after the conversation. And what a conversation it had been. It had been short, John was not a man of words after all, but Wulf had been less than pleased to hear John's decision regarding his going out with the hunting parties.

"But Father! I can –" Wulf cried angrily.

"No, boy."

"I didn't get caught! Everyone is fine!" John snorted at that. He knew full well how close it had been, and Wulf may not have been taken but he most certainly had been caught. Even his argument that everyone had returned 'fine' was untrue, by and large they had been lucky but nobody had returned completely unscathed.

"No."

"Will was with me! He is always with me! Please, Father. Why can't I go?" Again, John felt scorn for his son's statements, along with a sudden resurgence of anger at young Scarlett. Scarlett had been there and had done nothing, if it had been a case of Wulf running off on his own instead of staying with the group then perhaps he would reconsider. As it was, his son had been out with at least half a dozen other men, including Scarlett, and still nearly been taken away from him. He did not intend to ban Wulf from the hunts forever, it would only mean he would go on his own eventually and it would mean losing a hunter from the group. Nevertheless, with the images of what could have happened and the relief that had followed the party's return still so prominent in his mind, John couldn't help but be more careful where his boy was concerned. Much as he wanted to place the blame solely on the men who had been with Wulf, he also recognised that if his son was not so averse to doing as he was told, it might not have happened at all.

"Will Scarlett is piss-poor in fights like that." Wulf scowled at hearing his idol criticised for something which Scarlett took such care (not to mention practice) to improve. "And he mightn't always be able to help. Mind me, my lad; you can't go till I says so."

It was almost what John truly felt. In truth, his fear was more that Will would be able but unwilling to help rather than unable. But his statement about Scarlett's ability in such fights was perfectly true. Will was a scrapper, that much was true. But his skill lay in fists and daggers, in attacking downwind and his practice came from rolling around in the dirt outside taverns with the local lads. Faced with mounted soldiers in armour and carrying swords, he could barely defend himself let alone someone else.

Wulf looked mutinous but let the matter drop. John clearly had that look about him.

John turned his attention now to Scarlett who emerged, shielding his eyes and stretching from his shack. He noticed him glance at the sky then around the camp before settling on Wulf, frowning slightly, clearly wondering (as John was) why he had not been woken earlier. As he took in the young man's appearance, John noticed cuts in his unfastened over tunic, not to mention the various bruises and fresh cuts visible above the loose shirt. Knowing that the majority of them were not inflicted by him, John wondered whether he was perhaps remiss in not attempting to improve the lad's skill with a sword - for Wulf's sake at least.

John glanced down at his son, expecting that he would finally run off to keep company with Will as always. However, Wulf seemed reluctant to join his friend. They both watched Will greet a couple of the others, exchanging sympathies for each other's current conditions with Bull and even smile albeit somewhat forcedly as Bull feigned punching him and jerked his head towards John. John barely suppressed a grin himself when Scarlett then turned a glare upon him, clearly still bitter about their fight the day before. Nevertheless, Will sauntered up to the pair, wincing as he stepped into a patch of particularly bright sunlight.

Will came to a stop in front of them both, clearly uncomfortable around John. "Morning." Though it was clearly not morning anymore, it seemed the only thing to come to his mind. His voice sounded gravelly and somewhat uncertain, so very unlikely the confident and argumentative young man John recalled from the night before.

"Good morning, Will." Wulf murmured from his father's side. He too seemed apprehensive, pressing into John's side.

Will's eyes darted down to him, seeming almost surprised to see him there. "Hullo, Wulf!" The forced cheer seemed to hurt his head, he winced before continuing. "I'm going down to the river." As he said it he gave an odd, (not to mention ill-considered) half jerk of his head in that direction. It was as close to an invitation or request for Wulf's company as he would ever give and Wulf recognised it as such. When he still seemed hesitant, Scarlett quirked a grin. "I believe we still have unfinished business from yesterday." He added, half turning to leave. His tone had brightened, now it was warm – teasing almost. A joke between the two of them that neither believed John would understand.

Wulf's answering beam was instantaneous that time. He barely spared his father a glance as he took up his place at Will's side, chattering incessantly. It cheered John to see Wulf so happy after he had been so reserved all morning. The relief was short-lived as he caught the end of whatever Wulf had been talking about.

"And now Father says that I'm not allowed to go with the parties at all! It isn't fair. But we'll still go on ours, won't we?"

"Um…I suppose so." Will answered slowly, shooting a cautious glance at John to see if he had heard, which turned into fright as he realised he had. John felt his blood boil at the implication that Scarlett took his boy out hunting without any of the others – without him even knowing! "Although, maybe it would be for the best if I just…" Will trailed off as John caught up to them. Wulf looked up, starting to protest but stopping and looking down guiltily when he saw his father. Will held John's gaze, looking what John suspected was supposed to be defiant but came off as nervous.

"It isn't often." Scarlett's eyes closed in chagrin as Wulf piped up to defend himself and his friend. Opening his eyes, Will added:

"It's only rabbits, John." John said nothing, but continued glaring. Will was looking more uncomfortable by the second. "I do not take him hunting with me, not while I'm alone."

John was less than comforted by this, firstly, because although setting traps was far less dangerous than all out hunting in open land, it still meant leaving the camp and was still classed as poaching and secondly because Will's assurance that he didn't take Wulf alone, also implied to John that Will at least, did go hunting alone. He had not known that. The knowledge of this, coupled with his earlier musings upon the young man's swordsmanship, struck John with an overwhelming urge to ban Will from any future hunts for a while as well as Wulf. Suppressing the urge (and putting it down to his general distrust that Scarlett wouldn't betray them all to the Sherriff if necessary and to the fact that Fanny would have his skin if Scarlett did get caught and reasoning that he would feel the same worry over any of his men if they chose to do such things), John replied as calmly as he could.

"You are free to do as you like, just don't you go dragging my boy into it! If you want to risk your freedom – your skin – like that, then you are free to do so."

Will opened his mouth to argue back then suddenly, his eyes widened and his face drained of what little colour it had in it. John thought he might vomit but Scarlett's suddenly dropped his gaze. Frowning downwards, thinking carefully before shooting an apprehensive glance at John again. John raised his eyebrows, a slight smirk in place as he suddenly realised why his words had triggered such sheepishness in the young man. Freedom.

Still not looking at John, Will nodded and turned, dragging Wulf away with him. Shooting apprehensive glances over his shoulder at John as he went.

John wondered if he ought to put him out of his misery and remind him of the rest of last night's events. Namely, the fact that Will had apologised profusely for what he had said about Fanny, but knowing the cocky, defiant young man he would turn into once he knew that, John decided to leave it a while longer. He wanted to make the most of a camp that included a Will Scarlett who was all stammers and blushes rather than flying fists and sharp words.

John bid goodnight to the other fellows as they all eventually stumbled away to their bedrolls or lay passed out by the fireside. It had been several hours since he had fetched Wulf back, the fire had all but died and yet still there had been no sign of Scarlett. It being high Summer, the night was still warm; but rain had been threatening for most of the day and he was beginning to feel the first few drops falling. Thoughts of Fanny had been in his mind ever since Will had mentioned her in their argument earlier and, tempted as he was to let the young man stay where he was, passed out in the middle of the woods without any cover from the rain, John shuddered to think what Fanny would have said if he did so. He didn't like to consider a conversation where he had to tell her that Scarlett had died from some fever as a result of it either – it was unlikely but out there in the wilderness, who could take the chance? Sighing and stretching as he felt sleep beginning to take hold of him, John stood slowly, scowling as he thought longingly of his own bed.

John approached the sleeping man cautiously and coming to a stop about six feet away, living as dangerously as they did, most of the men had learned to come up swinging when awoken suddenly. He stood, observing him silently. Sprawled at the foot of the tree, face half-turned into the earth and hair strewn across his face, Will made a somewhat comical prospect. John grinned as a particularly fat raindrop fell upon the younger man's face causing him to scrunch his face up and mutter something incoherent in his sleep before shifting onto his back and becoming still again. John's smile lessened slightly as he observed him now, one side of Will's face was plastered in mud but what he could see of it had some nasty bruises developing and his lip was split. John was forcibly reminded of numerous occasions not so long ago when he would return home to a bruised and muddied Will standing outside their door. A Will who, having picked a fight with someone much bigger than him would inevitably wind up by their fireside being patched up by Fanny before curling up and falling asleep with Wulf and some of their other children on top of him. The boy had always irritated him, there was no doubting that, but John had to admit that despite his own feeling for him, Will had been a constant in his children's lives for many years and - before today - none of them had ever been wounded or endangered whilst in his company.

At this thought, John felt a pang of guilt hit him. He wasn't sorry for the beating he had given the lad (though had he known that Will was already injured from his encounter with Gisbourne, he would have held back a little more). But on reflection, he couldn't help but think he had been a little hasty – after all, Will hadn't been the only man out with Wulf – and, though he had doubted it during their earlier conversation, John found that he truly did believe that Will would have protected Wulf if he could have done. Also, if he were completely honest with himself, his concern for his friends as well as his son and even his concern for Will himself had played a part in his anger – how often could he recall Fanny or even Anne Scarlett herself taking such care over young Will's bruises before boxing his ears themselves? Shaking his head exasperatedly, John leant forward.

"You coming in then, lad?" How many times must he have asked Will that over the years at home? Will made some incoherent answer, frowning in his sleep. "Will?" John nudged him with his foot. "Come on." Again, Will made no answer but rolled himself away slightly. John shook his head again. He was tempted to leave the boy there but it was beginning to rain in earnest now and he'd be damned if he put up with a Will Scarlett who was even more ill-tempered than usual simply because he chose to sleep outside in the rain. Stepping closer, John cleared his throat. "WILLIAM!" Scarlett came awake with a startled gasp.

"John?" Will's eyes settled on John's face in the darkness but in the moonlight John could see his eyes still clouded with sleep and ale.

"Come on." John said again, jerking his head in the direction of the camp. He held one hand out and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Blinking owlishly and eyeing the proffered hand suspiciously, Will eventually allowed himself to be pulled stiffly to his feet. John began striding back, only stopping when he realised he was alone. He turned to find Will standing where he had left him, still regarding him with that same mix of suspicion and hope. Seeing John stop, Will stumbled after him and fell into step as best he could as John resumed walking. They were about halfway back when Will suddenly stopped again. Rolling his eyes, John turned, his patience quickly running out.

"John, I'm sorry." Will whispered in a small voice. John's brows went up to meet his hairline. The Will Scarlett who stood before him now bore little resemblance to the one he had argued with earlier. This one was soaking wet, muddied and bruised and, John noted in astonishment, looked to be on the verge of tears – a far cry from the defiant little devil who had sat with him by the fire drunkenly declaring that John's way of life just wasn't good enough. Taking in the fresh mud covering Will's front and hands where he had stumbled and fallen in his efforts to keep up with John's strides and the pitiful face that was turned up at him, John smiled ruefully.

He sighed and lifted one of Will's arms around his shoulders, wrapping his own arm around the boy's waist before setting off again, slower this time. It was awkward – he was almost a foot taller than Will but they managed.

"I know." John wasn't sure exactly what Scarlett was apologising for, presumably for the argument or because of Wulf's narrow escape but since apologies fell from the man's tongue about as often as snowflakes in July, John felt that it was sincere. Even more so, when he suddenly felt the slim body next to him begin to tremble before giving way to quiet sobs as Will began to ramble about his various misdeeds of the day. John began to wonder whether he might have knocked something loose in the boy – he was drunk, clearly, but John couldn't remember the last time he had seen Scarlett lose control in such a way, it was surely a good five years!

"…and I know I shouldn't have let it happen but…but I tried! I really did!" He was saying now, tripping over the words as they tumbled from his mouth. "I had no right to say it, John. I know, I didn't." John blinked, thrown off by the sudden change of subject. "But…I'm sick of it! A-and it's true! Everything I said, it's all true!" The tears had stopped as quickly as they started but now Will sounded weary and was leaning more heavily on John. "And Fanny doesn't belong out here. It wouldn't be fair." He continued quietly, almost regretfully. John felt indignation and anger rise up in him again as it occurred to him that Will thought he truly would wish this life on his wife and other children. He opened his mouth to put Scarlett straight but Will continued even more quietly, gazing at nothing and giving a half-hearted shrug. "Just 'cos we want them with us, doesn't mean it's…right…does it?" Again, John was caught off guard by Will's rambling; he was unprepared to be asked his opinion on it. He floundered for a moment, and Will suddenly turned his face to look at him for the first time since he had apologised to him. His expression was so uncertain and he looked so trusting – so unlike his usual self. John was reminded of Wulf and his other children, seeming to blindly trust that their father had all the answers to their questions.

"No, lad." He managed at last. He wasn't certain quite what he had agreed or disagreed with but Will seemed satisfied because he nodded wearily, closed his eyes and became silent for a few paces. Just as John was beginning to think he might actually have fallen asleep whilst walking, he spoke again.

"I threw Wulf into the river today." The admission was so impulsive on Will's part that John let out a bark of laughter. Will looked confused.

"Did you indeed?" The younger man's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You already knew", He accused quietly. John nodded. "That little rat, he told you!" He suddenly cried indignantly.

John laughed again, amused that Will's conscience was plaguing him so much that he had felt the need to admit to what hadbeen a petty and harmless act of temper on Will's part which Wulf had, he was certain, if not deserved then at least provoked.

"Wulf did not tell me." He murmured pacifyingly. Will still looked sceptical. "He did not tell me!" John repeated more forcefully.

Will opened his mouth, perhaps to argue but John cut him off with a look. He still looked annoyed but he was fading fast and the scowl was ruined by an enormous yawn. He seemed a little more sober now as well, he was still leaning rather heavily on John but he wasn't stumbling so much and he seemed more alert. John stopped and lifted Will's arm from his shoulders, leaving his own arm slightly wrapped around the younger man's waist just in case. The movement seemed to jar Will. He glanced around, seemingly startled, then stepped away from John – far enough away that John could still grab him if he fell but so that John's arm could no longer reach around him. They began to walk in awkward silence. The conversation had died down now that Will was beginning to sober up a little. John had no doubt that he would still suffer for it in the morning and that if he even remembered it, he would be incredibly embarrassed about the night's conversation but for now, it seemed Will had gained enough self-control to seem more like his usual self. Certainly, he was no longer willing to be supported or even caught as he tripped blindly over an upstanding tree root. John stifled a laugh and automatically reached out to grab his arm as he saw him stagger forward only to be shrugged off and have Will step further away, scowling at him and snapping "I'm not your boy, John!" Oh yes, Scarlett was definitely sobering up.

They entered the camp, both men silently fuming. John because his (admittedly unusual) concern had been harshly rebuffed as soon as Scarlett had been aware enough to realise it as such, and Will out of humiliation and residual anger at John from the afternoon as his injuries made themselves known once more. Will muttered an awkward goodnight to John as they passed the burned out fire, quickening his pace so as to get away from John as fast as possible. John found himself pausing to watch the younger man go, something that was just as well since Will suddenly lurched forward with an alarmed cry and smashed his face into the dirt.

Chortling, John sauntered over to him, stepping around the fallen log they used as a bench that Will had tripped over. Will was sat facing the log now, wincing as he rubbed his sore ankle, arms and face. John stood over him, gazing down, and his face full of mirth as he hauled him back on to his feet, still laughing. Will glared and rolled his eyes at him. John was fairly certain that he wanted to thump him – a feat that he had only ever achieved a handful of times, that afternoon being one of them. In all honesty, Will had been so astonished (and a little afraid) at having actually hit John that John had easily pushed him to the ground before carrying on.

"Get to yer bed, Will." John advised smirking. Will's jaw was set angrily but he didn't resist as John grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a slight shove in the direction of his hut – in fact John heard him let out a small chuckle as the boy tripped over his own feet just in his doorway. Rolling his eyes in amusement, John turned and headed for his own bed.

A/N: So…yeah I lied. It really was meant to be a one-shot though! Although actually, I'm considering writing at least a prequel to it (somebody mentioned that they'd like to read something like that) so I have most of that written, whether it'll ever get posted at the moment I'm not sure. Anyways, once again thank you to the lovely Ihni, you are truly my new best friend ;)

Anyway, please review – it's my birthday today so think of it as a present!

Tia