Robin glared sullenly as Much spoke, but that final word hit him like a blow, deflating any remaining misplaced irritation... and leaving that deep ache in its wake. Lowering his eyes, he turned and wandered over to the window, much like Marian had done. "You're right," he finally said quietly. "I hate that we had no control over it." His hands dropped to his hips and he sighed. "I hate that we have no control over the memories."
Turning to face him, Robin continued, "Since I got here, Marian's nearly died, I switched bodies with Merlin, Allan was damaged-- and then, he disappeared... and we've dealt with all of that. But how are we supposed to deal with this? Just pretend that it's fine? I tried that, but... Marian wants me to hate her. I can't-- when has she ever blamed herself so thoroughly for anything? And I can't fix it. And I'm--" wondering if that little boy is even real, and if he's happy and well "...I'm fully aware that my own actions there had consequences."
Emotion thickening his voice, Robin said, "I just can't see a way through this."