A/N: This is just a short story I wrote to help get rid of my writer's block and to pull myself out of the blue streak I've been in of late. It covers the gamut of emotions poor Will went through in the episode "Angel of Death." Eight short drabbles, eight emotions. Or as my sis described it, "Little character sketches at a point in time." The story is non-slash, just in case anybody gets the wrong idea. Please review and let me know what you think.
Pride. Will is proud of what he does. He's proud that he saves the people of Nottingham. He cares about them. He's grown up just like them—poor, oppressed, starved, and losing the people he cares about. He's proud to call himself one of Robin's men. He's not ashamed of being an outlaw.
Fear. He's afraid for his father. Dad's bold words ring through the square. Will is no stranger to such words. The outlaws hardly hide their hatred of the sheriff. Yet, they never rush in without a plan, which is exactly what Dan just did. Will cannot take his eyes off his father, even as the gang fades into the shadows. Will's breath catches in his throat.
Numb. He cannot feel a thing. Will cannot believe what just happened. His father cannot be dead—surely not Dan Scarlet. Will's mind cannot comprehend that his father—whom, until yesterday, he has not seen for a year, and whom he loves dearly—is gone.
Anger. Will must fight. He cannot sit idly by and let this, this murderer get away. He will kill the sheriff. Nothing can stop him; no one can hold him back. He would kill a hundred men to avenge his father and think nothing of it.
Hatred. The anger grows and grows, refusing to be shut down. Now it has another name—hate. Will knows now that he has to kill the Sheriff. He no longer needs to kill a hundred men; he only wants the Sheriff. Will's hatred grows with every step. When Gisbourne stands between his arrow and the Sheriff, Will moves on to second plan, his hatred growing with the foiled attempt.
Hurt. Will shakes as he hears the Sheriff crudely laugh about his dead father. He can hardly breathe. All of him feels like weeping for his loss and all of him longs to fly back into the room and throttle the Sheriff with his own hands.
Guilt. His dad died for him. He knows this as surely as anything he's ever known in his life. His angry, hurtful words spurred his father to speak. Now he's gone and Will knows it is all his fault. By killing the Sheriff, he's more than avenging his father; he's trying to absolve himself.
Love. His love for Robin is greater than his hatred of the Sheriff. Love breaks through the darkness. He no longer feels like he is drowning in a murky pond. Love conquers every emotion he has felt that day. Love brings him to his feet again. It spurs to run to retrieve the antidote.
His love for his father spurs him to put the antidote on the lips of the man he hates. He loves his father too much to become a murderer for him. He dedicates his good deed to the memory of his father.
His love for his father, his brother, and his gang help him pull through it. As he builds a memorial to his father—one of the greatest men he ever knew—he can still feel his father's love. He knows he will never forget the man who first took him by the hand to teach him to walk, the man who taught him to love by the way he loved Will's mother, little brother, and Will himself, the man who first taught him to work with wood, and the man who gave so much of himself to save his sons.