Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, made possible by the Ranger's Apprentice by John Flanagan. I have only borrowed his creation and I make no money. For this story I have used several other Rangers from the books, though I've also added my own. I do this only in the hope to entertain…

Author's Note: No harm shall come to the characters that can't be fixed with enough coffee…

Additional Author's note for sensitive Readers: I want this story to be realistic, which means, it might contain bits that some find more difficult. I have chosen not to give specific warnings, as that would lessen the impact of the events. However, there is nothing horribly descriptive, and nothing permanent. I only wish this to have a sense of realism to the reader.

Chapter 12

With the loss of a Ranger, both Will and Harcourt made for castle Araluen. Crowley needed to be told and given a full report.

Will was familiar enough to the guards that he did not need to show his oakleaf, and they took their ponies to the stable to care for them. Will would not let anyone else care for Blaze, he brushed her, and after he had given her an apple threw his arms around her neck. He knew he was delaying, because he did not want to climb the stairs to Crowley's office and he also knew it was not fair to Crowley. Crowley was Gilan's friend to, he deserved to know. So he forced himself to leave Blaze and Tug and head for the castle itself with Harcourt in tow.

Physically he had mostly recovered on the way back, his head still ached almost every day, but it was getting better even if he could not bring himself to care. He was fine, and it was wrong, because Gilan wasn't.

They were allowed inside, and climbed the many stairs to the tower office belonging to the commandant. Crowley had his own small apartment in the tower, a few levels below his office Will knew, but he had only ever been in the office. A rather spacious room with large windows that would be thrown open wide by a man who was more at home out in the country and hated to be couped up inside.

At their knock there was a call to enter, and Will pushed the door open.

"Will, Harcourt" there was a bright smile on Crowley's face as he saw who entered. So like Gilan, Will mused, it was one thing the two of them had in common, both always seemed to be smiling. Gilan had been more like Crowley in temperament, while Will knew he was more like Halt himself. Gilan was so cheerful and so full of life, had, been so full of life…

"Will, what's wrong," the smile had faded from his face as Crowley stood. Coming around the desk he ran a critical eye over the two Rangers. They both looked worn down, he could see bruises and smaller cuts, and Will held himself as if he barely had the strength to keep himself upright. "What happened, where's Gilan?" he motioned them to some chairs in the corner of the room. The fact that only two of them came to make their report meant that something had to have happened, and that Gilan was missing worried Crowley. If it had been Harcourt, it might not have meant anything at all, and if it had been Will it could have meant he was hurt, but not necessarily. Will would have been easier to explain, but Gilan would never have remained behind for any other reason than that he could not make it. He might not be badly hurt, but something had happened, that much Crowley knew instinctively, for he would never have left Will to report himself if he had been able to.

The stricken look on Will's face was giving him chills, for that meant it was likely bad.

He gestured for Harcourt to take a chair, then guided Will to one, sitting in front of the boy. "Take your time, but tell me what happened, was Gilan injured?"

"No, he's…" Will broke off, choked. "…he's gone."

"Gone?" Crowley barely got the word out past the constriction of his throat. "What do you mean gone?"

"He's dead, they killed him!" Will shook his head, arms wrapped around himself. Then he lunged forward, grasping at Crowley who was the only one beside Halt he knew he could show such weakness for. "They killed him and I couldn't do anything to stop them!" Tears were streaming down his face again, staining Crowley's jerkin as the older man held him. Crowley did not even notice, for his own tears were running freely down his face.

"I'm so sorry Will, I'm so sorry…" He had known it would be dangerous, but he had never thought it might cost either of them their life, and that Gilan, who was so skilled could have been lost had never crossed his mind. "I'm so sorry…"

The pain in his chest was no less now than when they had found Pritchard dead, his mentor had been banished and returned only in time to help them free Prince Duncan at Gorlan. He had been killed then to, as Morgarath had escaped through a tunnel no one had known about, surprising the old man and killing him in cold blood. Pritchard had trained him, and been like a father to him. During his banishment he had found and trained Halt, whom he knew had come to see their mentor more as a father though he had never said so. Just as he had seen both Gilan and Will as his sons. To have lost one would hurt him more than even the loss of their mentor.

At lengths Will pulled back, though the tears were still running down his face.

Gilan had taken the role of an older brother to him Crowley knew. The tall Ranger had been one of their very best, and the one Crowley had long since determined would be his successor as commandant. Gilan had shown organization skills to rival his own, he had an analytical mind and sometimes seemed to find things even Crowley had missed. He had many times entertained the idea of putting the young man to the job sooner rather than later, but he had not, for he did not want to do that to Gilan. He did not want to take him from the life they loved so much and leave him nothing but an office and a desk in return.

He was the commandant, and as such there were things he needed to do before he could take the luxury to grieve.

"Tell me what happened," he asked, he would grieve, deeply, for while his own heart had not held the same claim on the lad as Halt did, so he had still come to see him as his own during his apprenticeship.

Will told him of the cruelty shown, the destroyed farms they had found, and how they had tracked the band who did it. How Gilan had gone to scout their camp and how he himself had been surprised.

"It's my fault, I got careless," he dropped his head. "I thought we were far enough away there was no danger. It was a stupid thing to do, I should have been more cautious, and they would never have got Gilan. He died trying to rescue me."

"It was my fault," Harcourt intervened, but while Will's voice was heavy with guilt, his was hesitant Crowley mused. As if he was scared they would really think so.

"You both were careless, but it was not your fault," he decided. "We all make mistakes sometimes, and most often, nothing happens from them. Then sometimes, it's just the wrong time. You didn't intend for it to happen, and Gilan knew what he was doing, he knew the risk he took when he tried to rescue you," he paused, swallowing as he glanced to the window.

"Gilan is dead because of me!" Will half cried.

"Gilan is dead because of his dedication to his duty and his courage," Crowley shook his head. "Don't take that away from him, Will. You always knew how far he would go to keep you safe; we all did, he wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"It should have been me," Will was still inconsolable with grief.

"It shouldn't have been either one of you," he shook his head. Putting a hand on Will's shoulder he struggled to compose himself. "Will, I'm sorry, but I will need you two to write down this, for the records. I'm sorry, but it has to be done. I can give you a minute though, why don't you let me send for some food for you. You look like you could use it."

"Okay," he was prepared to do most anything Crowley wanted him to, the mere relief of having someone telling him what to do instead of having to think for himself.

Crowley nodded, going to his desk where there was a bell pull. He sent a young man for the food, returning to them once more.

Will ate mechanically after it arrived, while Crowley waited patiently, understanding.

To some measure Will found it easier to write a report, a clinical retail of what had occurred. It seemed to happen out of habit and experience, then he got to the part where Gilan died and he dropped the pen. He could not face it yet, not fully.

Harcourt hadn't been quite so detailed; he had signed his and given it to Crowley who put it on his desk. Pulling the bell pull again he had quarters arranged for the Ranger to rest so that he could focus on Will. Coaxing him through the rest of the report.

"What of his father?" Will finally asked, they had been sitting in silence for some time now.

"I will inform him," Crowley told him gently.

"It was my fault, it should be me."

"It wasn't your fault Will," Crowley shook his head. "And as his commandant, it should come from me. Sir David is a knight, he knows the risk of missions like this. He won't blame you anymore than I do, but I'm the one who sent his son on the mission. I will be the one to tell him. Why don't you try to get some rest? You're completely wore out, and perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea if you saw the healers?"

"I'm fine," Will brushed it away.

"I'm going to tell you something now Will," Crowley started softly. "And you're not going to like hearing it. But you need to. What happened was not your fault. You are in no way responsible for what happened to Gilan. But now you're going to have to face something that is harder than anything else you've experienced before. You need to accept that Gilan is gone, and that nothing you do can change that…" Will opened his mouth to object but Crowley raised a hand to silence him. "I know this sounds cruel, but it is the truth. You have never lost anyone like this before. Listen to someone who has."

"I lost my parents…" In spite of it all Will felt himself getting angry.

"That was not like this," Crowley shook his head. "You did not know them like you knew Gilan, that was a loss, and a terrible one, but it was not like this, and you need to face that. This is much more personal and that makes it more dangerous. Because you will try to deny it, and you will be angry, and if you're not careful you're going to hurt both yourself and others in doing so. If you deny that you're hurt, or try to push everyone away because you hurt, the only thing you will do is making yourself hurt more, and there is nothing worse you could do if you want to honour his memory. Do you understand that? You can not change what happened, no matter how much you wish you could. Don't you think right now I wish I had waited until Halt could go? That I had gone along myself? That I had done anything but send Gilan? But he was the best one I had to send, and he would not have wanted me to try to safeguard him. So I sent him, and now I have to accept it, like you need to accept that there was nothing you could have done."

"That isn't really making me feel better," Will mumbled.

"No, it's not," Crowley agreed. "Not now, maybe later, maybe in a few years when you can think of him without feeling it this hard. Then you might be glad to know you did what he would have wanted you to do."

"Is that how you can seem so, so, untouched?" Will demanded, lashing out, he knew he was doing so, because it hurt, and Crowley did not seem as distraught as he claimed to be.

"I'm not untouched, I'm devastated," Crowley told him bluntly. "I never had an apprentice, I can't in this position, but I had Gilan, he was the closest I had to one. I thought he could be commandant after me, he had what it took, almost more so than me. I looked forward to training him, and I don't want to face that I can't now. But if I don't try to help you through this, then that would be the worst thing I could do to him…."

"I'm sorry," Will hung his head. He knew it was true, Crowley cared deeply about Gilan.

"It's alright," Crowley put a hand on his shoulder. "I understand Will, I really do, so go down to the infirmary, have them check you over, and then get some rest. I'll see you later."

"Okay," Will nodded, shuffling out of the office, and Crowley ran a hand through his sandy hair.

Now he had to go down and find Sir David, and then he had to break his heart.

TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry…