A/N: I tried, is it obvious? Anyway I've been gone for a few decades it feels like but hopefully I'll be coming back more often. Sorry about the unofficial hiatus.

Summary: Will wakes up one morning to find something very important is missing.

Damp

The melodic drumming of rain had not woken Will up, it was the lightning. Rather, the thunder that rolled like a earthquake and split the ground in two.

Will awoke with a jolt the first time. The next, less suddenly. He stayed awake longer that time, and found it hard to get comfortable.

His bed was cold, but not because of the storm.

Raindrops enhanced the dead silence inside his walls.

The third time, he groaned, turned over, fluffed his pillow, and went back to sleep. He wasn't nearly awake enough to last until the morning.

Once he put the coldness out of his mind he was able to tune out the storm and drown himself again in sleep.

The storm had blown east when he woke up. Will was badly tempted to pull up the blankets and go to sleep again, but he wouldn't have slept very well, even if he had given in, knowing that he was ignoring so many responsibilities.

So he got up, dressed, and had a cup of coffee to dry out his damp mind.

The dust dancing in the sun beams next to him was great company, but the room was still empty. Sable was on the rug dozing. The birds were oddly quiet as if anticipating something. In such a big room Will felt suffocated.

He made a note to invite Alyss over for dinner. He showed a hollow smile at the prospect. She rarely refused.

Fearful that it would slip his mind, he got out a pen and paper that minute and wrote her a quick letter. The day felt a little less languid with something to look forward to. Now he had to plan a nice dinner for them. His usual meal wasn't suitable for a date, and he should clean up the cabin a little… Will had never liked cleaning since his early apprentice days had given it such a bad connotation, but with the proper motivation (like Alyss) he didn't mind.

He slipped the letter in an envelope and left it on the breakfast table, next to his nearly drained mug. Then suddenly it struck him that one part of his wardrobe that had slipped right out of his head. In fact, it was the most vital part of his outfit.

Damn exhaustion.

On his way to the bedroom he couldn't resist the yawn that had crept up on him. He understood how that sunlight dust felt now. Floating in the light but ceasing to exist when it left. There, dancing; but never landing.

Not to say that Will always felt this damp and shell-like. Only on certain days.

He opened the closet. Inside on the door was a small hook on which his oakleaf hung.

Hardly looking, he felt the curve of that wooden hook with his fingers-but it was empty. Then again, he had two identical hooks right next to each other. He paused, and went over it again, then finally in impatience, crooked his neck to peer in. It was the right hook. And there was nothing hanging on it.

More frantic, he pinched the other hook. Empty. He was fully awake now. His body snapped to attention like the crack of a whip.

Then the whip went limp. When he had finally determined that there was nothing on those hooks he searched around the bottom of the closet in hopes it had dropped. Again he found nothing.

He mumbled encouragement indiscernibly to himself in his head. Will had a long history of not losing small items. He didn't get very far into his apprenticeship without having that skill embedded in him.

Okay, okay, I need to keep track of my things.

His second guess was the bedstand. That little which was inside was he ripped out and threw around him.

Will prayed with every item he examined that he would see that familiar old glimmer in the corner of his eye, or the softness of the intertwined strings between his fingers. He wished that it would clatter to the bottom after he removed a book, or he would feel its shape underneath a sheet of paper. He didn't. Every moment of its absence raised Will's expectations, but every failed attempt let them fall.

He frantically went through every pile again, throwing useless things aside with shaking hands that could barely handle that task in front of them. Blood was beating so hard in his chest that it left the rest of him cold and lonely.

His whole room was thrown on the floor. A long stream of words that his commandment wouldn't approve of was growing in his head.

With every moment it was becoming even less likely that he would find it. He had found books his hands hadn't touched for years. What were the chances of it magically migrating to the bottom of the drawer when he last wore it yesterday? They were very slim, but Will desperately ignored them.

By then he had accepted the truth. He had lost his oakleaf.

There was a knock at the door and Will's head snapped up so hard his hair bristled over his eyes.

He stood up and took many very brisk steps to the door. He tore it open and greeted the mailboy with a firm, "Hi."

The boy blinked. "Hi, sir.." He cleared his throat. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Milon."

The sound of a person's voice against his ears was loud, and uncomfortable at first. Will whispered whenever he talked to himself. When Milon didn't whisper, Will physically flinched from the sheer impact of it on his ears.

The boy held out a letter. "This is all today, sir."

Will snatched it out of the boy's hand. "Thank you. Great. Have a good- no, wait." He screeched to a halt as soon as the less anxious part of his mind was yelling at him to hold on just one moment. "Right. I have something, actually, hold on just a second okay?" Will didn't wait for a response and left for the breakfast table.

Milon noticed the difference in Will from yesterday. It worried the boy. Unlike lots of children in the fief, he wasn't afraid of Will for any reason but the ones that were rational. Yes, the man could kill him twenty or more different ways without a bow, but if Milon didn't give him a reason to, why should he?

The ranger had left the door open, and Milon didn't keep himself from curiously peering in. It was wide open. Obviously Will didn't mind, and everything inside was normal. "Sir?" he asked. "Are you alright today?"

"Yes, I'm fine." The ranger said, coming back, "I need this delivered today, got it?"

Milon nodded and dropped the envelope in the right pocket of his bag. "Yes, sir. Really…" Milon paused as long as it took for Will to look at him seriously. He waited until Will was taking his words to heart instead of letting them roll right off. "Are you alright?"

Will waited his own special amount of time until, finally, his wall broke. Maybe it was the feeling of some young boy being innocently concerned about him which reminded him of himself when he was an apprentice. He had the same frame as Will used to with darker skin and hair. But he had the same big brown eyes that wanted to take in the world.

The ranger sighed. "I.. lost something important," he said shamefully. "And I rarely lose anything. Especially when it's so valuable to me."

It was important that Will not tell Milon exactly what it was. If the word got out, it would surely get to Crowley. Or even worse, Halt.

"It's probably somewhere very obvious that you just haven't looked in yet," said Milon. "That's usually the case with me, and I kick myself later for it. Or I ask my mom, and she always finds it. Somehow. It's like magic."

"I'll ask my mom but I don't think she'll be much help. Well," Will hurried to say before his sarcasm set in-Milon's face twisted trying to figure it out-"you're right about it being someplace obvious."

"Thank you.. Ranger."

"I'd better get on it, then."

"Um, if you'd like.." Milon began, and then stopped and reworked his sentence. "I don't mean to impose but it could go a lot faster with two people. I'm willing to offer my help. Sir."

And then Will surprised himself. More than likely, the boy had been expecting him to turn it down and was merely being polite by asking. Will certainly didn't need any more trouble on his hands than he had already.

Will knew this, and yet he still shocked both of them when he nodded, and invited him inside.

What is wrong with me today, he scolded himself.

He told Milon he was looking for a necklace and left it at that. He told him not to open any folders, or books, or anything with the word "secret" or "Ranger Corps" written on it. In fact, no folders or envelopes at all. Will looked over every once in awhile to check.

Sable woke up, but after greeting Milon, she took to Will's room so that she could sleep longer.

I always kept it in the same spot… I made extra sure of that because I knew that I could easily lose track of it.

He set the mailboy to work in the living room while Will finished his bedroom. Then he made his way back into the main room. He turned over the cushions. He looked under the rug. He looked in stupid places. No matter how illogical they were they still held a sliver of hope.

A sliver of hope is what he kept finding. Then it was gone. His hands moved quicker as if that would solve it. Quicker and quicker, he moved until he forgot to breathe.

God, where is it… Where… I brought it home last night, didn't I? Surely. Surely I didn't leave it somewhere outside the cabin.

"Sir?" Milon finally said to the prostrated ranger. Only three minutes had passed. They had gone through everything very quickly. Not many of a ranger's material possessions were frivolous enough to be left in the living room. "It might turn up later," said the mailboy, genuinely concerned.

It's not gone. There's no way it could be. No, no, no. It's only the first day I've started looking. No…

"I need it today," Will said under his breath. "Not for any reason. It just has to be here."

That's when Milon's suspicions were confirmed. He knew which necklace this was.

It was time for Will's shame to catch up with him. He forced the damp wetness pricking at his eyes away, and stood up. "Thanks for your help, Milon," he said. "Really."

"Oh, it's no problem."

"I'll find it some time I'm sure." Will faked apathy towards the whole situation in hopes it would convince Milon to forget what he saw earlier-when Will so carelessly let his guard down. He had never been in this kind of situation before.

He had seen people he cared about die before, but it wasn't quite like that. It wasn't his friend that had died when he lost his oakleaf, it was himself. It was years of himself, and every scent and feeling of happiness and fear that had collected on the way; every sunlight dust speck he'd seen, and every breath that had spread through his chest.

The indescribable feeling of being "here" for years.

It was losing his life.

As Will was dismissing Milon, his eyes caught something new, as his head turned to the genuine young boy. In fact, it was the same fireplace he had seen every day for years. In a new light, even the most ordinary things could look so remarkably new .

"Don't look," said Will, making his way to the fireplace. He had to watch his step. He jumped in the empty spots between debris like a child avoiding the patches of floor that they vividly imagined was lava.

"What?" asked Milon, but he obeyed and turned away.

"It's a secret place I can't show you. You've helped so much already, anyway, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you have things to do." Will crouched a few feet from the fireplace and went no further.

Milon replied, "Okay… You're welcome, I'm glad to be of help. But you're not keeping me from any work. If I'm being honest, sir, I'd rather be here."

Will chuckled. There he was again, in apprentice form. Eager to help, and refreshingly honest; curious, but polite if the other person was two steps from being a stranger. At least he was finding pieces of himself now.

The mailboy only got a distracted answer in reply. "Go, though. You have work to do and so do I."

"Okay." Milon patted his side and found his thigh, not what he had intended. He circled to the door, tried to avoid looking at Will; but his bag was on the couch, so he had no choice but to get a quick glimpse of him. To Milon's relief, Will hadn't revealed any part of his secret hiding place yet. It excited Milon to know that rangers had those places.

As he picked up his bag by the strong part of the strap, not the part that was half eaten away, and swung it over his shoulder, he did a double take at Will. Something had caught his eye, and he was right. Milon had to squint. Then he saw a silver chain around the back of Will's neck. It was nearly hidden by his hair that was almost shoulder length now-it surprised Will too-but clearly a necklace chain.

"Ranger," Milon exclaimed, "you're wearing it."

"Huh?" Will turned and looked at him. "I'm wearing it?"

"Yes!" Milon had to work not to laugh, but he was already pretty tired. "There's the chain around your neck."

Will pulled the pendant of his silver oakleaf out of his shirt. It was warm from being against his heart. He reached down again and felt nothing, then sighed.

Milon grinned.

"It's not this."

His grin fell. "Huh?"

Will let his oakleaf fall against his shirt, and looked up at the mailboy through pieces of hair. He had to remind Alyss to cut them tonight. "It's not this one… It's my bronze oakleaf."

Milon was wordless.

Will turned away and said, "Some rangers give theirs back… but I convinced Ranger Crowley to let me keep mine. No, if I lost my silver oakleaf that's not a big deal."

"Really?"

"Well, the commandant would be upset for sure. And they'd never let me hear the end of it." Will chuckled. "But they could make me a new one. My bronze oakleaf…."

He was quiet again.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"It's okay. I'm sure I'm being overdramatic."

"It's a bad situation, it's not surprising that you're worried. Anyway, I'll let you get back to it."

Will's goodbye got pushed to the back of his mind. Milon had swiveled his head back and his eyes had graced the bookshelf bordering the door. And on the top of the bookshelf, one hand taller than Milon, was something that glimmered.

Milon just reached up and felt the shape of it with his fingers. Then smiled again. Will was facing the other way and waiting for him to leave.

Milon moved the object to the edge of the shelf. He didn't appreciate slamming doors unless it was his mother he was upset at, or he wanted to prove a point to his brothers.. So he knew how. He slammed the door to the ranger's cabin, and then ran away as fast as he could without tripping over his own feet.

Inside, Will had noticed how hard that door had been shut, and he was ready to go back out there and tell Milon to be careful, because wood is far from indestructible. But something clattered to the ground, and Will wasn't too busy to notice it.

And for some reason he didn't move.

Not for a minute.

He didn't look in the secret hiding spot, either. Either of those places could hold his oakleaf, or neither of them could. Until he looked, anything was possible. And he was neither happy, nor disappointed. He was a balance: hopeful.

There were two slivers of hope left, and he sat there for more time than he bothered to count; unbreathing. Because maybe it wasn't in either of those places.

But Will was a naturally curious person, and for better or for worse, he always had to look.

He got up and walked at his normal pace to the front door. He lowered himself onto one knee. Actually, he didn't see anything, not until his sharply trained eyes made out the thin shape of something lying there by his foot. It blended in so well with the wood it was difficult to spot; it was the same color. Six years of his life.

Will chuckled and turned it over in his hand.

There was no hallelujah, no cry of joy. He simply slipped the strings around his neck and tucked the oakleaf under his shirt.

Then the day went on.