"Really, I'm feeling so much better, Halt," Gilan croaked out, even as Halt reached a hand out to keep the boy from listing sideways off the pillow that he had so insistently propped himself up on.

Halt sighed. This conversation was not a new one, and the Ranger was quickly growing weary of it. "I'm sure. You used to look like death; now you just look terrible." Quickly brushing a palm across Gilan's forehead before the boy could twist out of reach, Halt confirmed for himself that his apprentice's fever was still present. "Either way, you're still running hot and therefore, not coming."

"I'm fine." The phrase would have been more convincing if Gilan hadn't started to list again, this time in the other direction.

Halt gave a low grumble at his student's persistence; who exactly did he think he was fooling? Crossing his arms, the older Ranger leaned back against the wall. "Fine, then. Walk to the door and back in a straight line, and then we'll talk about you coming."

Gilan gave a snot-logged scoff. "Alright."

"Alright."

With great effort, Gilan heaved himself off the mattress, holding onto the headboard as he tried to find his balance. His legs were trembling like a newborn colt's, the boy noted with dismay, his locked knees the only thing keeping him from tumbling to the floor. After a deep breath, Gilan detached himself from the headboard and took a tentative, stilted step forward.

And immediately fell as his knees buckled.

Gilan would have become rather well acquainted with the floor if an anticipating Halt hadn't caught him and lowered him back onto the bed. Halt raised an eyebrow, and Gilan gave a groan of defeat. "Okay, you win. I feel awful and everything is spinning."

"Your head is the only thing that's spinning," Halt promised as he pulled the blanket back up over his apprentice. "Just go to sleep; I'll be back tomorrow morning. Finish all your water and under no circumstances are you to get out of bed. I won't be here to haul you off the floor."

"Mhm," Gilan mumbled in response, worn out from his arguing and already drifting off to sleep. Halt just rolled his eyes and brushed a hand across the boy's hair before exiting the bedroom.

"Goodnight, Gil."

Sniff.

Halt, raising a spoonful of stew to his mouth, gave an exasperated sigh through his teeth. Gilan had caught a cold earlier in the week, and while he remained well enough to function fairly normally, he was just sick enough to be annoying.

Sniff.

The grizzled Ranger closed his eyes and bit out, "Gilan, if you wipe your nose with your sleeve one more time..."

"It won't stop running," Gilan complained, mopping at his nose again with the cuff of his poor tunic despite Halt's warning. "And I don't have a handkerchief."

"Of course you don't," Halt answered grumpily, digging into his own tunic pocket to retrieve his own. Passing it to his student, the Ranger sternly warned, "You're washing that in boiling water before it comes back to me."

Gilan took the cloth and again dabbed at his nose, an expression of wonder on his young face. "Huh. You're as equipped as a nursemaid."

Halt stopped in his tracks. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," Gilan shrugged. The handkerchief was better than his sleeve, the boy decided as he folded the item and slipped it into his pocket.

"And you clearly don't want to take the risk of saying it again."

"You're right. I don't."

A smirk flashed across Halt's face as took another bite of his dinner. "How's the stew?" The Ranger inquired.

Gilan stared into his bowl thoughtfully. "I'm sure it's good, but seeing as how I can't taste a thing right now..."

Oh. Right.

Halt frowned as he opened the door, Will looking up curiously from his assignment as he did so. Standing on the porch was Crowley, Ranger Commandant and his best friend. Standing beside him was a salty looking Gilan.

Gilan, who was currently sporting a bandaged right arm and definitely favoring his ribs.

Halt stared for a moment, trying to take in the scene before him. "What on earth..."

Exasperatedly running a hand through his hair, Crowley nudged Gilan, who winced. "Your idiot apprentice got himself in way over his head," the Commandant answered with a roll of his eyes. "And managed a rather spectacular stunt that has ended up with him on two weeks of leave."

"In my defense, I did catch them," Gilan interjected, casting a desperate glance at his old teacher. Will, his curiosity overwhelming him, had gotten up from the table and was peeking out the door beside his mentor.

"Hi, Crowley! Hi, Gilan... what happened to you?"

Halt ignored Gilan's pleading look; right now, he was more inclined to agree with Crowley. "Yes, Gilan, what did happen to you?"

The young Ranger gave a momentary glare at the betrayal for dropping his gaze and forcing out, "Well... um..."

"He fell off of a roof," Crowley added helpfully.

Halt pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course he did," the Ranger said in a long suffering tone, giving his former apprentice a withering look. "Well, besides telling me about his idiotic antics, why is he here?"

"Because," Crowley answered in an overly sweet tone, "You have no respect for authority and evidently have passed that trait down to your apprentices. Gilan needs to be off duty, resting, for two weeks, and you are the only one that he'll maybe listen to and not try to sneak back onto duty."

"He doesn't listen to me, either!" Halt grumbled as Gilan gave a non apologetic shrug, a smile touching his lips at Crowley's words. Gilan couldn't argue with them; he was the type to try to sneak back on duty, and probably at the nearest opportunity.

Crowley gave his friend a pat on his shoulder. "Like I said, your problem." Turning to head down the porch steps, the Commandant gave Gilan an affectionate swat on the head. "Two weeks, sport. Not a moment sooner."

After waving to Crowley, Will excitedly turned to Halt. "Gilan gets to stay for two weeks?!" the boy said gleefully, almost bouncing on his feet in his enthusiasm. Gilan was basically the big brother that Will had never had, and the prospect of getting to spend two weeks with him was very enticing indeed.

"Apparently," Halt answered tersely, trying to wrap his head around the idea of having his two extremely spirited apprentices in the same house for two weeks. This could get interesting, Halt thought with some trepidation. To Will, Halt said, "Get Blaze put away, please, Will." Nodding, Will gave Gilan another grin before bounding down the steps.

"This is all your fault," Halt told his former apprentice, even as he gestured him into the house.

Unclasping his cloak, Gilan flashed his characteristic cheeky grin. "Actually, to hear Crowley tell it, it's your fault."

Halt rolled his eyes, though he internally conceded that Crowley did have a point.

Just some more lighthearted, fluffy whump. I originally had another one in the lineup, but it was slightly more intense and I decided that it would be better suited as a longer, single story.

Until next time!

-TrustTheCloak