Author's Note: Sorry it took so stinking long to get this chapter up. Every time I sat down to write, something came up. School. Chores. The need for sleep (or coffee). Life in general. At any rate, here's the next chappie! Enjoy!

It was a peaceful night. The moon was nearly full, and cast a calm, bluish light across the fields surrounding the castle that gave everything a serene, smooth look. The grass waved and roared in the night wind, and an owl hooted from the edge of the woods.

Inside the castle, he had been sleeping fitfully, arms wrapped around his wife with a calm breeze drifting in from the slightly open window above their bed. His eyebrows twitched in his sleep as a foreign noise broke the silence of the night. It was quiet at first, but then it grew louder. It sounded like hoof beats on flagstones. He frowned in his slumber, turned, readjusted his arms around his wife, and settled back down to sleep. The hoof beats had ended. A few moments later, however, and there were quick footsteps growing louder and louder. Next thing he knew, someone was pounding on his door loud enough for the deaf to hear. After a few confused, sleepy groans, he started awake and sat up. His wife, also roused by the ruckus, was rubbing her eyes, mumbling something or other.

He rose, hastily tucking his nightshirt into his trousers as he walked, and went over to the door. Short grey hair sticking out at odd angles from sleep, he answered the door and couldn't help but widen his eyes a little at the tall, alarmed ranger standing in his doorway.

"Aaron Fletcher?" The tall man asked, slightly out of breath.

"Yes, that's me." He said groggily after a moment. His wife and daughters had come out to see who had come knocking on their door at two in the morning.

"Healer?"

"Yes, I am a healer." At the question, Aaron immediately became more alert. He knew from experience where this conversation was heading. "What's wrong?" He asked. The general compassion that drove him to pursue a life in medical work now compelled him to be eager to help.

"It's Will," The tall man said, "The Ranger; Halt's apprentice. He's a fever fiercer than I've ever seen - burning up and it won't go down." He was jumbling his words together. "Halt told me to come get you as quickly as I could. Please help."

Aaron nodded quickly, and looked back at the twin teen girls peering out from their room across the hall.

"Rose, Lily, my things - go!"

The two tall brunettes, despite having been rudely awakened by a frantic ranger and still in their night gowns, nodded and quickly hurried off to another room. Aaron went over and spoke quickly and quietly to his wife, who hurried off after her daughters.

"How long has he had a fever?" Aaron asked as he pulled on his boots.

"He's been sick for three, four days. He's had a fever most of that time, but last night he woke up burning up. He's delusional - babbling nonsense."

Lily and Rose reappeared carrying a heavy satchel that rattled with various bottles, herbs and remedies. Their mother followed soon after with a coat for Aaron, which he donned with a clear look of gratitude towards his family.

"Thank you. Now, Ranger..."

"Gilan."

"Ranger Gilan," Aaron addressed him with the smallest hint of surprise. He recognized the name, and remembered treating the young man several times when Gilan was Halt's apprentice. He suppressed the recognition, however, and stepped towards the door. There were more important things to attend to.

"We haven't a moment to lose. Come on."

Halt was trying desperately to keep Will talking to him - anything to ensure that his apprentice didn't fall into a lapse where the fever could overtake him completely. The babbling was generally meaningless to Halt, but after a while, the words started to all correlate to one particular thing.

"No no no... Heat... Ahhh, stop it. It's not too far off... Just shoot that one and spark it off... Pitch on rope... Help." Will's eyes were far-off and unfocused as his brow contorted in response to unseen events playing out in his hallucination. Halt held the boy's head in his lap, constantly checking his forehead for any change in temperature.

"No, falling..." Will looked pained. "Why is it always falling? Ev'lyn... 'Or'ce... So far... Hot... Too hot."

After several long, incessant periods of rambling, Halt had concluded that Will was reliving a jumbled version of his experiences on Morgarath's bridge, the bridge that he burnt down. Halt still did not know exactly what had transpired on that bridge, but knowing just how Will had brought it down, it was logical to assume that the boy's subconscious had made a mental connection between the heat of the fever and the heat of the fire at the bridge. He was surprised, however, when Will said his name.

"Halt..." He said, and for a moment, Halt thought that the boy had come back to some semblance of reality and realized that Halt was leaning over him. However, this was far from the truth. "Said he'd find me." Will slurred out. "Just you see, Ev'lyn... Just see." Will's face was peaceful, and for a split second, Halt was relieved. But when Will stopped talking all together, panic took over.

"Will? Will! Stay awake, Will!" Halt patted the apprentice's cheek and tousled his head a touch roughly, trying to rouse him. "Talk, Will, talk. What happened at the bridge, Will? Tell me, what did I - what did Halt tell you? What happened at Three Step Pass?" Halt rattled off some questions relating to what Will had been talking about, trying to coax his mind into talking again.

"Said... Said he'd find me. Promised." Will said, his eyes drooping a bit. "I know he will. Always does. Never broken a promise once. I... I know he'll find me... Just wait and see. Just... Wait. Halt's always there..."

Under normal circumstances, Halt might have been touched by the words, but as it was, Halt couldn't even think about sentimentality. All he was worried about was Will's life, which seemed to be very quickly ebbing away before his eyes.

"Bridge... Had to go..." Will was babbling again, "Burned it... Shot them... But now... Falling..." His eyes fluttered, and he looked like was going to pass out entirely, but it was then that Aaron and Gilan came bursting through the door. Aaron went quickly over to where Halt was and assessed Will's condition at a glance. He bit back a curse and let out a heavy breath of air.

"Gilan, get me a bucket of water." He skipped any greetings that he might have for the other rangers, and started giving orders. "Halt, help me get him back onto the bed." As Gilan hurried out of the room, Halt got up carefully around his delusional apprentice and helped the healer get the boy back onto his small bed.

"He's too hot." Aaron was saying as they adjusted Will on the mattress. "The fever has gotten too much - we have to get him cooled down fast." As he said this, he ripped open Will's shirt and tossed it aside, laying an ear against the flushed skin of his chest to listen to the ragged pattern of the boy's breathing. He grimaced, and straightened. He was about to ask Halt for something when Gilan returned with a full bucket of water.

Without saying anything, Aaron took the bucket and unceremoniously dumped all of its contents splashing onto Will's torso and face, sending the boy into a small fit of sputtering.

"Open the window." He told Gilan as he piled more pillows behind Will to keep his chest elevated. The breeze from the window came through the room across to Will, and the boy shivered slightly, but Aaron made no move to stop him. "Halt, put this on his head." The healer handed the ranger a cold wet cloth before he headed over to his back of tricks to pull out multiple vials and bundles. After painfully force-feeding an herbal concoction to the soaking wet, half-conscious, fever-stricken boy, Will was in hardly a better state than he had been when Aaron had arrived. The healer stood up, swiped back his hair in a determined way, and then went to work on the next remedy.

It was going to be a long, hard night.

The Redmont infirmary was usually a quiet place. The castle inhabitants were generally healthy enough that the only persons in need of frequent medical attention were the elderly, the disabled, and of course the rowdy battleschool apprentices.

Today, however, both Aaron and his senior apprentice were buzzing about frantically, their eyes bloodshot, hands quick, and minds working wildly to concoct a cure for the sickly ranger's apprentice lying in their medical wing. The sun had only just begun to rise above the horizon, but Aaron had already been at work for hours.

Off in one corner, watching all of the proceedings with an underlying burr of anxiety in his stance, was Halt. When Aaron had made the decision to bring Will back to the infirmary, Gilan had stayed out of the healer's way to keep things easier for him, but Halt had insisted on staying. Dark eyes followed the actions of the healer and his apprentice as they darted this way and that about the room, but they ultimately landed on the clammy, still form of Will, who had been unconscious for the better part of three hours, now.

It was his fault, Halt thought, that Will was even here. If he had only paid more attention - if he had seen the signs and treated them accordingly, Will wouldn't be here. If he had simply given the boy more medical attention, he would probably be fine. Halt mentally smacked himself upside the head and sighed in annoyance. He had been so quick to assume that Will was well again. And now? Now the boy was unconscious, in the infirmary, with two exhausted healers trying desperately to break his dangerously high fever - all because Halt hadn't seen that danger first.

It may have been days, it may have been hours later - Halt wasn't quite sure - before Aaron finally came over to the ranger.

"His fever has finally broken." The man said, wiping sweat from his own brow. With a huge sigh of relief and the tiniest of smiles, Aaron looked back at his ward. "The worst is over. Now, he just needs time."

The birds were chirping that morning. He could feel his cheeks warm pleasantly in the sunlight streaming in from the window. Something thick, soft and heavy was lying neatly across most of his body. He very slowly opened his eyes and looked about. Despite the fact that it was bright outside, it was not painfully so. As his eyes adjusted, he very quickly realized that he was not in his room. The ceiling above him was made of stone, and the window across from him looked out from a second-story view to the east. Looking down, he noted that he was wearing plain white linen breeches and shirt, and that a thick wool blanket covered him from the waist down. On that blanket, in the crook of a familiar arm, Halt's head lay still - hair tousled, eyes darkened, and altogether very decidedly asleep. Will blinked a few times at the odd sight and looked about himself some more. He wasn't precisely sure what had happened or what he had done to get himself landed in the infirmary, but it was logical to assume that it had something to do with the sickness that had taken him some days ago. He could still feel the lingering grogginess and thick taste in the back of his throat, but it was not as bad as he remembered it being when he'd gone to sleep the night before.

He looked over at Halt again, half expecting the man to have woken in the few seconds that Will had looked away, but he hadn't, and so Will simply smiled down at his master, who he decided looked uncharacteristically peaceful while asleep, leaned back on his pillows, closed his eyes, and drifted back off into a restful sleep.

Throughout the rest of the day, Will received a few visitors, though he was not awake to greet them properly. Lady Pauline and Alyss had been the first to come, Alyss with a small bundle of wildflowers in hand for her bed-bound friend. Both couriers had had a light laugh at Halt's expense, but the older ranger hadn't seemed to care very much, as he had been sound asleep still.

Horace had come by briefly, rather concerned and under the impression that Will was still in critical condition. However, after Aaron's sleepy apprentice had explained to the anxious knight-in-training that Will was, in fact, alive and on the road to recovery, Horace had calmed down. It was then that he had noticed Halt, and taken some amusement in seeing the normally uncannily alert ranger in such a deep sleep.

Will remained asleep for the rest of the day, and though some considered it, none of the healers dared to move Halt, fearing what the ranger might do if roused. Gilan took a sympathetic kind of amusement in the whole thing, and commented to Aaron what a monstrous crick in the neck Halt would have when he woke up. The healer laughed dryly and had to agree.

It was late in the evening, near dusk, when Will woke up again. This time, he found Gilan sitting on the side of his bed not occupied by Halt, reading a book by candlelight.

"Gilan?" He said quietly. He was still incredibly drowsy and a touch disoriented. The other ranger, who hadn't noticed Will's consciousness yet, looked over and his eyes lit up when he saw Will awake.

"Will!" He said, keeping his voice down. There was no need to talk loudly to a just barely awake sick boy and a sleeping ranger inside an abandoned infirmary. "It's good to see you awake, finally. How are you feeling?"

It took a moment for Will to answer. He looked around as if to remember where he was. "Worn." He mustered. "I feel like like Horace decided to use me as his punching bag again. Several times." Will reached up to rub his head, and Gilan laughed lightly, a look of deep sympathy on his face.

"I can understand that one. You gave us all a right scare last night - nearly died!" Gilan said, not even thinking about masking the truth that Will had, in fact, been on death's doorstep. "Aaron - he's the healer that saved your life, by the way - said he hasn't seen a fever so bad in years. You're lucky to be here, Will. And awake after only a day, at that!" Gilan was truly impressed by Will's recovery.

In truth, Will felt nothing but gratitude toward this Aaron person, but he had to groan when he attempted to turn his head a bit too quickly. "Well, that's all perfectly well, but I wonder if I shouldn't have woken up in the first place." Will said, grimacing. "My head hurts something awful."

Gilan nodded, and rose. "You're probably hungry." He said. "Haven't eaten anything all day, have you? Course not, you were asleep." Gilan looked around, and when he saw that there was no food to be found, he rose from his seat. "I'll go see if your friend, Jenny, is still up at the kitchens. She's been asking about you all day, but hasn't been able to come up because of her work." Gilan smiled. "You have a lot of friends here, Will. Alyss came by and gave you those." He directed Will's attention to a cheerfully bright bundle of wildflowers sitting on a small table near to where Gilan had just been sitting. The young apprentice smiled warmly. Of course, Alyss, of all people, would think to bring him flowers.

"I'll be back in a moment." Gilan said, before leaving for the kitchens.

In Gilan's absence, Will directed his attention back to Halt, who had hardly moved from where he had been that morning, and the boy just couldn't help but wonder how on earth the man had managed to stay asleep in such an uncomfortable position for so long. However, Will couldn't help but grin at the look on Halt's sleeping face. For however unsmiling, hard and stern Halt made himself out to be, Will had long since learned Halt was really rather soft at the core, hidden under his grim reputation. Now, Will could see the softer side of Halt playing out on his sleeping features - even if the ranger did look rather silly with half of his face smashed up against his arm as it was.

A few minutes later Gilan returned with a bowl of stew broth and a hunk of bread. It smelled delicious, but thankfully, the smell was not too rich, and so Will had a dinner of broth-soaked bread. Gilan handed Will a glass of water afterwards, and when he drank it, Will commented that it tasted strange.

"Oh, well..." Gilan avoided Will's eyes, but couldn't bring himself to lie to the boy. "It's, eh... It's a sleeping drought. Aaron told me to give it to you if you woke up." Gilan looked apologetically at Will.

For his part, Will was relieved that he wasn't imagining the pungent taste of the water, but a bit alarmed that he was presently being drugged.

"It's just to get you your rest." Gilan told him reassuringly. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright, Gilan." Will said. "I understand. Just tastes funny, is all." With that, though a little apprehensive, Will downed the rest of the concoction. After he was done, he looked down at Halt again, and had to ask:

"How long has he been lying there?" He gestured towards the sleeping man.

Gilan laughed. "All day. He's going to have a fine time recovering from that crick in the neck, I can tell you." He shook his head as he stacked up Will's dishes. "Aaron left him some herbs for the pain. He's a good man, Aaron, but I don't know much it will help. Halt's been sleeping as dead as a rock since this morning."

Will laughed with his friend, though it was a weak attempt in his worn out state. "Funny, I didn't even know he could sleep during the day. Not to mention for so long." Will said, making a jibe at Halt's tendency to live on very little sleep - typically, coffee replaced any actual sleeping in the Ranger's day-to-day life.

Gilan let out a bark of laughter at this, and the two apprentices, present and former, looked down at their mentor, eyes alight with humor.

"Indeed. But, then again, it's probably for the best. He does have quite a few years of insomnia to catch up on." The taller man teased as he rose. With a last smile down at Halt, Gilan turned to Will and couldn't keep himself from reaching out and ruffling the shock of brown hair atop the younger man's head. "Good to have you back, Will. Now get some sleep."

As Gilan walked off, Will felt an odd wave of drowsiness overcome him and knew that the sleeping drought was starting to take effect. He sighed and leaned back, relaxing his back against the mound of pillows at the head of the bed. From where he was, he could look out the window and watch the distant lights in the village go out one by one. The sound of the breeze rushing through the trees had a calming effect on him, and his eyelids began to drift closed, but he wasn't quite ready to succumb to the drug yet.

A few minutes later, at the sound of an owl hooting loudly from outside the window, Halt awoke with a start. He was surprised at how dark it was when he looked around. Judging by the sparse light, it was well past sundown in Redmont. He didn't see Aaron or his apprentice anywhere, but when he looked over at Will, whom he thought was still asleep, he was surprised to see the boy's eyes silted slightly open.

"Wondering when you'd wake up." His apprentice commented weakly. Halt sat up immediately, but stopped short with a grimace when his neck refused to turn properly without shooting pain down his spine. Will smiled sympathetically at him.

"I'm sorry. Gilan did say you'd have a crick in your neck. I think Aaron left you some medication for it on that table over there." Will looked over at a table that sat not too far away. Halt ignored it.

"You're awake." He said, and looked Will over.