A/N: Here's the third bit! Poor Gilan is worried over his old master and Will.... So he goes to investigate!

Gilan watched the slowly setting sun with growing concern. It was late afternoon, and the Gathering was well underway. It was the second day of the Ranger's annual meeting, and all of the normal goings-on were running smoothly without too much commotion aside from the normal hubbub, and everyone had showed up with nothing but good or benign news. Well,almost everyone. Gilan sighed as he turned back toward camp. Halt and Will still hadn't arrived. It was uncharacteristic for the grizzled ranger to be late - especially late to the Gathering. It was rare for any ranger to be this late, but of all rangers, Halt would never, ever be late, Gilan mused. Possibilities of what could have happened to Halt and Will ran through Gilan's mind endlessly - all of them included some form of pain, suffering, or peril for his former master and his young apprentice. Though he didn't want to admit it, Gilan was rather worried. Surely, if something was wrong, Halt would have sent word ahead of him to the Gathering to explain. If he had, such news would arrive soon enough.

And yet... Gilan's gut twisted. He cared deeply for Halt, and also for Will, with whom he'd become good friends. If something had happened to detain them from travel... He worried for them. Yes, they were both perfectly capable of protecting themselves, and yes, they were both very skilled at the art of staying alive under any number of circumstances, yet... Gilan couldn't repress the restlessness he felt at not knowing why they were running so darn late to something as important as the Gathering.

Oh, stop worrying like an old maid. Gilan told himself. What a childish thing to do. They'll show up. They'll be here. They will. Just... Wait. Of course, waiting is easier said than done. He talked to the other rangers for a while, just small talk about the weather, the state of any given fief, or of bows and hunting. He even exchanged some 'ranger stories' with Crowley about the different misadventures that came with being a ranger to a Araluen fiefdom. It burned some time. But he still worried about Halt and Will. He eventually resorted to fletching arrows. Night fell. The rangers shared a supper of stew. It's better when Halt prepares it. Gilan thought. He tried to sleep that night. He failed. At dawn, He rose and went straight to Crowley's tent.

"I'm leaving." He told the Commandant. "I'm going to find Halt and Will." And with that, he packed up his essentials onto Blaze's saddle, and set off to Redmont fief.

Halt's brow was creased in an uncharacteristically clear expression of concern and concentration. Will's condition had only slightly improved since they'd returned to their small cottage two days before, and it had Halt worried. The boy was completely exhausted from constant shivering, and was running a dangerously high temperature. Briefly, Halt wondered if he would have to send word to a physician. He hoped it would not come to that. Gingerly, the ranger reached over and flipped the damp cloth that lay over Will's forehead and smoothed the boy's hair away from his face.

"Will?" He asked quietly. No response. He supposed that his apprentice was too feverish to understand him, much less respond. He sighed. He'd never seen Will sick before, and to have him shaking uncontrollably under a mountain of blankets was not the best situation for either of them to be in. Halt glanced out the window. It was dark out. Usually, he would be in bed by now, but with Will in the condition that he was in, he couldn't allow himself to sleep. He turned back to the sickly boy in the bed next to him.

"Come on now, Will, fight it. You have to break this fever, or it could mean your life." He told the unresponsive boy. His voice was an odd mix of softness and gruffness. With some effort, the ranger gently lifted his apprentice into a semi-sitting position and slowly poured an herbal tea into his mouth. Instinctively, even when barely conscious, Will swallowed the medicinal substance without much resistance. Halt set the mug back down on the side table and eased Will back down onto the pillows. The boy stirred slightly in his feverish stupor, groaning quietly when his body protested against his painful movements. But, Halt noticed with some relief, the boy was starting to sweat. A good sign. It told him that finally, after two days, Will's fever was beginning to break. Halt sighed quietly in relief. Will was far from being out of the woods, but it was a start. His shivering wasn't gone yet, but it was lessening. He seemed, for the first time, to be sleeping peacefully as his fever lessened its grip on his body. Halt reached for the cloth on Will's forehead and dipped it in the water basin that sat on the bedside table. As he replaced it on his apprentice's forehead, there was a resounding knock on the cabin's front door. Halt's brow furrowed. There were only a handful of people who would come looking for him this late at night. The ranger glanced at Will, made sure the boy wasn't dying before his eyes, and then went to answer the door.

"Gilan?" The ranger asked, surprised. "What are you doing here this late at night?" It was only when he spoke at normal volume that Halt realized how hoarse his voice had become from the loss of sleep he had endured over the past few nights.

"Halt! Thank God you're okay." The young ranger looked genuinely relieved. "You look horrible. I came here to see why you and Will aren't at the gathering. Where have you been? What's going on? And what on earth happened to your eyes? They're all dark. Halt, have you been sleeping at all this past week?"

Apprentices...They're all the same. Halt thought to himself. Nothing but questions, no matter how old they get. "I'm fine." Halt assured the younger ranger. "Will is a different case, however."

Gilan's features came together in a worried look. "What happened? Is he alright?"

Halt sighed. Too many questions, too late at night. "He's... He'll live, Gilan. I think. He woke up with a nasty fever two days ago." Halt let out a humorless, gruff laugh. "Tried to disguise it, too. Failed miserably, to say the least. He's been bed ridden for these past few nights, and his fever just now broke. I'm sorry we couldn't make it to the gathering. I couldn't expect him to go."

"Dear Lord," Gilan breathed, "Are you sure he'll be alright? Do you know-"

"Halt?" A low, quiet moan sounded from the other end of the cabin. Halt's head snapped around when he heard it, and without a single thought to Gilan, he was charging back to Will's bedroom. Will lay in his bed, sickly, sweaty, his eyes barely cracked open.

"Wahapne?" He slurred out through cracked lips.

"What is it, Will?" Hald asked softly, smoothing out the boy's hair. Will paused and swallowed.

"What happened?" He sounded out with great effort.

"You're sick." Halt said. "You've been in bed for two days, now."

It took a moment or two for this to get across to the boy. "Oh." He said simply. It was obvious he would have liked to have said more, but he was weak and the effort caused him pain.

"But you'll be fine, Will." Halt told him. As he said this, he hoped what he said was true. "You need to rest, to fight the fever. Drink this." Halt reached over and grabbed another mug of the medicine-laced tea and helped Will to drink it. Just after Halt had replaced the cup to the table, Will was sleeping again. Gilan entered the room.

"Halt, he looks bloody awful." Gilan said as he looked down at Will sympathetically.

Halt nodded. "Unfortunately I don't know if that will change any time soon." The tail end of his sentence was distorted by a yawn, which created an undignified, decidedly un-Halt like expression on the Ranger's face. Gilan hid a smile.

"Halt," He said, not unkindly, "You should sleep."

"I'm fine, Gilan." Halt protested, ignoring his body's demands for rest. "I need to take care of Will." He turned his eyes back to his apprentice.

"No," Gilan insisted. "You need sleep." Gilan stepped around Halt to look him in the eye. Halt ignored him and kept looking at Will. "You can't very well take care of the boy when you yourself are about to fall over from exhaustion." Gilan said. Halt didn't even look at his former apprentice. Gilan squinted at the other ranger, assessing the dark circles and the weariness once more. "Halt, you haven't slept a wink for three days, have you?" No response. Gilan took Halt's silence as an equivalent to 'yes'. He sighed. In a gentler, more reassuring tone, he said: "Look, Halt, I'll look after Will for the night. I'll take care of him and keep his fever in check. Okay? Just go get some sleep. Lord knows you need it." It was only after he said this that Halt looked at him.

"Fine." The grizzled ranger relented. "But if he gets any worse at all, or if something happens, Gilan, wake me up."

"Alright, Halt. Now go to bed." Gilan told him. "He'll be fine. He's a strong boy."

Halt nodded, half in agreement, half in thanks, and headed towards his own room down the hall. Gilan looked back over at Will and the beads of sweat running down his face. He removed a few of the blankets from Will's bed, then settled into the chair situated at Will's bedside.

"Well, Will, one thing's for sure." Gilan told the unconscious boy. "You've gotten yourself into one royal mess."