Her labored breathing is what woke Will from a light sleep. Her hand was still in his, holding his thumb tightly as if her life was dependant on the strong anchor Will portrayed. He lifted his head, looking at her face with tears returning.
Her eyes were clear, as clear as they had been the day before when she came charging down the road toward him on Starburst, but he could see the pain lacing her features. Will sat up wrapping his free around the small hand holding his left, smiling down at her.
"Is everyone okay?" she gasped.
Will smiled, "they're fine. Everyone's fine."
"Good. I'd hate to think, I almost died, for nothing," she wheezed lifting up her broken arm so she could see it. "How, bad is it?" she shifted her eyes to look at Will.
"You didn't almost die," he gave a small laugh. "You did great."
"So, Johnny's okay?" she laid her arm down on her stomach sounding relieved. "They didn't catch him?"
Will could see the worry in her eyes. She and Johnny had never gotten along, but she was still worried about him. She was compassionate, it was one of the reasons he had chosen her as his apprentice.
"He's fine, he helped save you." Angie smiled, her eyes turning to look up at the ceiling. "He was really worried about you."
"I know," she closed her eyes, attempting to take a deep breath. Her face rippled with pain, the air escaping in a hiss through her lips. "Are you sure, I didn't almost die?" she asked in a ragged gasp, pulling her hand from Will's grasp to gently massage her side.
"No," he leaned down to the supply of warmweed that had been left behind. The smell of it so close to him brought back bad memories. He fought the urge to tuck a pinch of the weed beneath his tongue.
"I have something to ease the pain," he started slowly. If he gave this to Angie, he felt like he would be enabling her addiction, and opening the way to his long ago addiction. But if Angie needed it, he would give her the warmweed.
"I don't need," she could not finish the sentence, she gasped trying to breath.
"Here," Will had a pinch of the warmweed in his fingers, "this will help."
He put the warmweed in her mouth, down beneath her tongue. At first she resisted him, turning her head aside weakly. The motion was too much, she moaned from the pain with a contorted grimace on her face. Will almost allowed her to go without the warmweed, but the pain was too much. He forced her to take the warmweed, tucking it beneath her tongue.
She relaxed instantly, her eyes closed either from pain or relief. Will hoped it was relief, he did not want to give her anymore than the little pinch. She took several small breaths and opened her eyes to look at him.
"It's so warm," she gave a small smile, he could see where she was forcing the expression. "What is it?"
"It doesn't matter," Will brushed her hair back from her face with his hand, smiling at Angie. "All that matters is that you feel better."
Angie's smile spread slightly, then she lifted her broken arm up again biting her lip. Will watched her carefully, waiting to see if she would need another pinch of the warmweed. Her face slackened as she looked at the splint.
"How bad is it?" she asked still looking at her arm.
"You just feel bad because of the broken ribs," he answered guardedly. "The healer says you'll be fine."
"I don't feel like I'll be fine," her eyes slid over to look at him. He was caught in the depths of her eyes.
She was so trusting of him, he was her mentor. And he had been keeping secrets from her. He had kept a huge secret from her all of her life. He felt guilt well up inside him as he looked down at her.
"I feel like everything got put in the wrong place when I was in the shipyard," she reached up to her neck, searching for her necklace, her comfort item. Her fingers curled around the twin oakleaf charm and she tried to remove the necklace. She bit her lip pulling the necklace through her hair.
"Do you need help?" Will asked watching her, forcing his hand to remain on his lap.
"No," she gasped pulling the necklace free of her hair, she rubbed the metal with her thumb biting her lip.
"What is that?" he feigned curiosity. It was the first time she had pulled the necklace off where Will could see. He knew she sought comfort in the necklace he had given her the day he left her at Redmont, she often pinched it between her thumb and forefinger when she was thinking or nervous. He felt the need to tell her the truth. The necklace was a good place to begin. It was the only place to start.
"It's nothing," she said quietly, her thumb running across the bronze charm in a small circle. "Just some trinket," she attempted another deep breath.
"It's obviously something," he prompted.
"It's just," she swallowed closing her eyes, like the action hurt her. "My parents gave it to me. Before they abandoned me," anything Will had been expecting Angie to say could not have hurt as much as that.
Mark and Grace had loved her. They had loved Angie so much that they had died to protect her. It was something their child should be proud of. Angie thought she had been abandoned, that her parents simply had not wanted her. Her words struck him like a blow to the heart, hearing her talk so horribly about her parents.
Will reached into his tunic to pull out his silver oakleaf, taking the necklace off and held it in his hand. Angie did not miss the motion. She turned her head to look at Will, her eyes locked on the necklace so like her own dangling in her mentor's hand.
"What is that?" she pulled her left hand free of Will's and reached up for his silver oakleaf. He dropped his oakleaf in her hand, trying to find the words to describe what the necklace was and what it represented.
"It's the signal of the Rangers," he answered unable to look her in the eye. "After your first year of apprenticeship, if you pass all of the assessments at the Gathering you receive a bronze oakleaf. After you finish training you receive a silver one, and when you retire the silver is traded in for a golden oakleaf."
"All the Rangers have them?" Angie held Will's necklace beside her own. The three leaves were identical. "You knew my parents?" he could hear the feeling of betrayal in her voice. "You knew them, and you didn't tell me?"
"I couldn't," he shook his head coming to his feet and beginning a small circle to pace. "You needed a normal life. You needed to be away from the Rangers."
"What does this necklace mean?" he forced himself to look at her. Hre face was gaunt, her eyes pleading. "Please," she reached out for him with her left hand.
Will returned to his chair, leaning over the edge of her bed, wrapping his hands around Angie's extended hand. "The Ranger commandant had it commissioned for you, so you would always know you had a family. A family that would do anything for you," he squeezed her hand.
"I don't understand," she looked up at the necklaces. "Why would the Ranger commandant give me this?"
"You were the first," Will answered, beginning to doubt his decision to reveal the truth. How would she react to this, was she even ready to know the truth?
"The first what?" she closed her eyes, laying her broken arm and the necklaces across her stomach.
"Child born to the Rangers," Will's heart was pounding as he looked at her. Was this how Halt had felt when he had told Will about his parents? Would Angie be able as accepting of her past as Will had?
"What happened to them?"
"When you were a baby, your parents were assigned to Norgate Fief. It's large and Gilan could easily list off the necessity for two Rangers. At the Gathering the year you were born, word reached us of a planned assault on Araluen from the Scotti. Not one of the little raids, a full scale invasion through One Raven Pass.
"Gilan asked for volunteers to go to Picta and stop the invasion. Everyone volunteered to go. We were honor bound to protect the Kingdom, we all wanted the chance to go abroad and stop the mounting Scotti." Will closed his eyes.
This was the part he did not want to tell. In his own mind Will saw this moment as a sentencing, sending Mark and Grace to their deaths. Angie would say the same, he knew it. That moment fifteen years ago was what resulted in Angie growing up as a ward. She would hate him, and he could not blame her. Their blood was on Will's hands, and that was a mark he could never remove.
"I told Gilan to send your parents. I told him they knew the area since they were in Norgate, that the two of them could manage. I had Horace back me to Gilan, even though he said he thought they were too young. I sent them to Picta, even though I had my own doubts.
"They were young. They had not faced anything like what was building in Picta. But they had wanted to go. They seemed so sure of themselves. And they were Rangers. Rangers are trained to handle the impossible," Will shook his head miserably. "I understand if you blame me. It's all my fault."
"What was their name?" Will looked up to see Angie looking at him. Misery clouded her eyes, the pain of her injuries paled and stretched her face. She was looking to him for the answers, when he had expected her to be angry and order him away.
"Mark and Grace," he answered quietly.
"Their name, Will. What's my name?" she sounded exhausted, no doubt this conversation had taken everything out of her. Behind the cloud of pain he could see determination. She was so close to the answer of the only question she had ever really cared about, not even the pain was going to stop her.
Will could understand her need to know. She had grown up without a family name in the ward at Redmont, Will had not told them her name intentionally. She wanted that information just as badly as Will had wanted it growing up.
"Treaty," Will answered, his smile returning for her sake. "Or Altman, like Maddie. O'Carrick like the legendary Halt."
"My name, my real one," Will sighed.
"Pritchard. Mark Pritchard was your father."
Angie turned her head back to the ceiling. "Like Johnny?" she whispered, her face wrinkling with pain. Her warmweed was wearing off, the pain was returning.
"He's your cousin. Mark had an older brother. He was Johnny's father, Nathan."
"Can I have some more?" she asked after a long stretch of silence.
"Of course," Will got another pinch of the warmweed and helped her tuck it beneath her tongue. He took his silver oakleaf from her hand as he sat back in his chair, slipping it over his head.
Angie took two almost regular breaths and pulled her hand from Will's. "Please leave."
Will stared down at her. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she whispered, turning her head toward the wall. "I want you to go."
"Okay," he stood and started from the room. Will stopped at the door, looking back at her. "There's a boy keeping the fire. If you need anything send for me."
Angie did not respond. Will stopped outside of her door, staring at the wooden panels for what felt like hours. She had sent him away and although he felt like his heart had just been ripped out, he could not blame her.

A/N Hello all my lovely readers. No, don't worry, the story's not finished yet, you can all keep breathing. This little message is for another reason. With the assistance of me amigo Ranger Nikhi, a new story is in the works bringing more adventures in the world of the Ranger's Apprentice. And I come to you, the people who have followed the adventures of Angie, Johnny and the heroes of Araluen, to ask for input in the new story.
We are looking for OCs. Scandalous, seedy characters; sweet and innocent children; rough and tumble teenagers; people from all walks of life. If you have an OC you would like to submit, or allow us to use, send me a private message here on the sight with their details. If your character is included I will mention you in the story as the creator.
With this to think about, I leave you until my next chapter release. And thanks again for reading my story, and for your reviews!