This story is loosely inspired by the Boy in the Striped Pajamas. I originally intended this to be an AU of the Boy in the Striped Pajamas, but I ended up changing most of the storyline in the process of writing it, so I don't think it qualifies as an AU of the novel anymore. Whatever this is, enjoy.

Arthur glanced to the clock, seeing the clock hand hadn't moved since the last time he checked. Surely the clock must be broken. Time didn't really move this slowly. There was absolutely nothing to do, so Arthur sat alone on the staircase, staring at the clock on the wall and praying the day would just end already. But of course, it was just barely past two in the afternoon. There were eight more hours to suffer through.

Arthur hated his life now. He used to live in a beautiful home in the middle Berlin. He used to be able to roam the city all day with his friends. Oh yeah, and he actually had friends. But then 1939 came around and the stupid war started. At first things weren't so bad. Nothing much happened after Poland fell (well, nothing Arthur really cared about anyway). Life seemed to go back to normal, until his father, who held some sort of important position in the Nazi party, as he always reminded everyone, had gotten a promotion. Sure, Arthur had been excited for his father, until he found out that the particular promotion required his entire family to leave Berlin. Now he lived in a stupid, prison-like house somewhere in Poland, though it felt like the middle of nowhere.

It was so lonely here. The house always felt so empty. It was just him, his father (who was always locked in his office doing god-knows-what), and his sister. Of course there were always the maids, and the occasional soldier passing through, but they never talked to him. Arthur's sister, Morgana, was almost never around. Ever since the war started, Morgana had devoted herself to the Nazi party. She mostly just locked herself in her room, studying the ideology. Uther was so proud of Morgana, but she was a woman and would never be able to follow in his footsteps and become an S.S. officer. Which is why his attention was often directed to Arthur. And Arthur hated it. It wasn't that he wasn't devoted to the party of anything. He'd grown up in it, it's all he's ever known. But all that reading, it just wasn't Arthur's thing. The list of Nazi works he's studied started and ended with Mein Kampf, and it had taken Uther months to get Arthur to read it. Arthur would much rather spend his time reading epic stories of ancient battles and wizards and princes and princesses. And dragons! Arthur loved dragons. By now, Uther had mostly given up on Arthur, so he was free to wander around the lonely property while his sister was in her room and his father was in his office. The house and grounds were pretty big, but in the two months they'd lived there, Arthur had managed to explore every nook and cranny there was. He was forbidden to ever leave the grounds, and there was nothing left to do on the grounds, so Arthur sat alone on the staircase. He's been doing that a lot lately.

Arthur often liked to imagine what existed beyond the house and the grounds. He knew there was something out there. He had seen it in the distance when they were moving in, and he used to be able to see something from his bedroom window. When he had mentioned this to his father, his bedroom window was boarded up and the backyard put strictly off limits. Arthur was dying to find out what was out there, but there was simply no way to slip away into the woods with so many soldiers everywhere, all reporting directly to his father. So Arthur sat and waited, hoping for his chance to do something.

It was several nights later that the Pendragons finally all got together for a family dinner. In Berlin, this was a daily occurrence, but they hadn't had dinner together once since moving to Poland. It wouldn't seem like it would be difficult for three people to find time to have dinner together, especially considering that Arthur never had anything going on. But Uther always was busy with work and Morgana claimed she had to study.

The dinner turned out to be extremely awkward and silent. Arthur guessed that's what happens when a family hardly talks to each other in two months. Twenty minutes passed before anyone spoke a word. Finally, Morgana decided to break the silence.

"This dinner is nice."

Uther just nodded, not really paying attention.

"Yeah." Arthur agreed. "I wish we could do this more often."

Turning to his father, Arthur added, "I hate how much you have to work."

Morgana seemed shocked Arthur would say something so brash, and looked as if she was going to kick him from under the table, but Uther didn't seem bothered.

"I know it can be hard, but I have a very important job."

"It can't be that important." Arthur muttered bitterly.

"Our father is an S.S. officer." Morgana said harshly.

"So?" Arthur asked.

"He protects us from the threat of Jews. You've no idea where we would be without the S.S." Morgana explained, her voice starting to sound calmer but her eyes growing more murderous.

"I just don't understand why the Jews are so dangerous that father has to work al…" Arthur started to say, but was cut off, not by Morgana but by his father.

"I know you've read Mein Kampf, Arthur. It explains everything. Really, you should know these things if you ever want to be a member of the S.S. You're almost 18, son. Less than three years and you…"

"But what if I don't want to be in the S.S.?"

Uther froze, his face completely devoid of all emotion. Arthur knew now he really fucked up.

"I'm sorry." Arthur said quickly. "I'm just sick of you having to work so much. Ever since mother died…" He trailed off, as if getting choked up. Uther's face softened. Bringing up his mother always helped get him out of tough situations with his father.

"It's just until Germany's won the war." Uther said.

"I know. But it's already 1941. It's been almost three years. How much longer?"

Uther didn't answer, instead deciding to change the subject.

"I've noticed you've been just sitting around lately."

Arthur just shrugged.

"Why don't you come up with a project you could work on." Uther suggested.

"I'm not writing a report, if that's what you're saying." Arthur stated.

"No. I was thinking you could build something. Like a swing maybe."

"Father, I'm 15." Arthur exclaimed indignantly.

"Well then build something do something. I'm sure you can find some tools and materials in the shed out back."

Arthur could see that his father wasn't about to let this go, so he just nodded silently in agreement. Claiming he was tired, he excused himself from the table and went to his bedroom.

Although he really didn't want to, Arthur decided the next morning to build something. Maybe he wanted, deep down, to please his father. Maybe it was just sheer boredom. Either way, Arthur skipped breakfast that morning and went out to the shed to find the tools. He had never really built anything before, and actually had no experience with tools what-so-ever. He'd figure he'd mess around and hope that whatever he threw together looked something that could possibly resemble anything other than a mess of wood and nails. He doubted his father would really care what he did, just that he did something.

It was a bit chilly that morning, and it looked as if it was going to rain. At that point, though, Arthur was beyond caring. He happily skipped around to the back garden, which was really just a pathetic little patch of brown grass surrounded by a crumbling wall. In the corner stood (just barely) a small little wooden shed. It looked as if it once was painted red, but now the walls were just weathered wood with flakes of red paint scattered around.

Arthur walked up and pulled open the door (which was not an easy task considering how rusted the hinges were) and scanned over the shelves that lined the interior walls. Most of the shed was filled with the most useless odds and ends imaginable, save for the top shelf (because of course the useful things had to be the hardest to reach) which held a modest toolbox. Figuring that was probably a good place to start, Arthur pulled himself up onto the first shelf then started climbing. The shelves did not look like they would support him, but they surprisingly held up, and Arthur managed to reach the top shelf. He was about to grab the toolbox when he noticed the window. It hung above the highest shelf, cracked and too grimy to see through. It looked as if it hadn't been opened in years, but was propped slightly open with an old rag. Arthur pushed the window up, seeing it opened into the woods beyond the garden wall. He glanced around, making sure the coast was clear, then he slipped through the window. He tumbled to the forest floor, finally feeling as if he was free for the first time in months. He picked himself up, then decided to take off running.

Arthur raced between the trees that towered above him, not caring at all where he ended up. The images of the forest flew by, and before he knew it, Arthur had run out of the forest and into a field filled with tall grass and yellow wild flowers. It stretched several meters ahead before meeting the base of a hill. The sun was low in the sky, night would be upon him soon. But Arthur decided he had to see what was beyond the hill. There was no telling when he'd have another chance to slip off the property unnoticed. He might as well make the most of the time he had.

He scrambled up the hill, finding himself in front of a massive barbed-wire fence. Arthur inched forward, gazing over the strange place in front of him. The ground beyond the fence was dead and cracking. The sky was blanketed in a dark haze that seemed to be coming from a chimney in the distance, pouring black smoke into the sky. The stench was awful, the whole place smelled of death. Then Arthur noticed the boy.

He was crouched behind a pile of earth on the other side of the fence, his skeleton-like arms hugging his thin frame. His head was shaved and he wore what looked like blue and white striped pajamas.

Arthur crept closer, but the boy didn't seem to notice him.

"Hello?"

The boy jumped, looking up at Arthur in a panic as he tried to back away.

"Don't be scared!" Arthur said quickly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The boy remained frozen in place, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Arthur.

"Do you speak German?" Arthur asked, remembering that he was not in fact in Germany anymore.

The boy nodded slightly, but didn't say anything. He still didn't move a centimeter.

"I'm Arthur." Arthur said cheerfully. "What's your name?"

The boy looked at him curiously, but remained silent.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked.

"I have to go." The boy announced, then ran from behind the pile and across the dead field beyond.

"Well alright then." Arthur muttered to himself.

The last light of day was fading from the sky, so Arthur turned around and headed home, the image of the strange boy still in his mind.

Sneaking into the woods through the window in the shed proved to be quite easy, to Arthur's surprise. No one ever went into the back garden, nor did they care enough about him to notice his absence. Trips to the woods became a daily event for Arthur. He could spend hours just lying by the small creek, or climbing the trees, or just walking around. But no matter what he did, Arthur could never stop thinking about that strange place beyond the fence. He was so curious, had so many questions, but at the same time he was terrified of it.

It took Arthur a week to work up the courage to go back. It took some time finding it again, but he did eventually stumble back upon that hill. The smell when he reached the top was just as bad as he remembered it. What on earth was being burning? He strained his eyes, trying to see the smoke-stack through the fence. That was when he noticed the boy. It was the same boy from before, crouched in the same spot behind the pile.

Arthur walked up to the fence slowly, trying not to scare the boy like last time.

"Hello?" He whispered. The boy looked up, but didn't jump like last time. He just looked confused.

Arthur continued. "Hi. I was here a few days ago. My name's…"

"Arthur. I remembered." The boy cut in. His accent was strange, but he didn't seem to have much trouble speaking German. "My name's Merlin."

"Hello Merlin." Arthur said, walking up to the fence so he could reach through it.

"No!" Merlin shouted before Arthur could touch anything. Merlin turned back to the pile, picked up a small piece of metal and threw it at the fence. It hit it and with the sound of a sharp pop, fell to the ground in a shower of sparks.

"It's electric." Merlin explained. "If you touch it, you die."

"Thanks."

Merlin smiled, then sat back down in front of the fence. Arthur decided to follow suit.

"So what are you doing here?" Arthur finally asked.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin countered.

"I was bored." Arthur answered.

"Yeah. Me too." Merlin said with a smile (an absolutely gorgeous smile). "I don't fancy building much, so I'm hiding back here so I don't have to."

"Building?"

"Yeah. They have us building barracks. Over there." Merlin explained, pointing across the field to several wooden structures. There were other boys in the same strange outfits as Merlin, but they were just standing in a line.

"Shit! Shift's over." Merlin exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing a hammer that had been discarded on the ground.

"Bye!" He called, then ran back across the field.

Weeks flew by. Arthur returned to the fence whenever he could, and to his delight, Merlin was always waiting for him. The two would just sit and talk for hours on end. Arthur would tell of his life in Berlin, and Merlin would go on and on about his life before the war. He never talked about how he ended up in this strange place, and Arthur never asked. He figured it was probably a sensitive topic for Merlin. They told jokes, and laughed until they cried, and tried to play stupid games through the fence. Arthur would bring his favourite books and read aloud to Merlin, and Merlin would tell the legends his grandparents had told him when he was young. Arthur loved watching Merlin's eyes light up as he told stories of magical stone warriors that would spring to life, or magical shape-shifting birds that lived off blood, or of times when giants roamed the Earth. For those fews hours each day, everything seemed almost perfect. Almost.

As the weeks passed, Arthur began to notice something changing in Merlin. Merlin never stopped telling his stories, or stopped laughing, but his face was becoming more gaunt, his eyes looking more sunken every time Arthur visited. He was growing weaker by the day. Arthur tried to bring it up a few times, but Merlin never seemed to want to talk about it. Arthur would drop it, figuring it was a tough subject for Merlin, but after a month he couldn't keep the act up.

"Why are you so thin?" Arthur finally demanded one day.

Merlin looked taken aback. After a moment, he just shrugged. "Can you keep reading?"

Arthur closed the book he had been reading aloud, setting in in the grass beside him.

"Why are you so thin?" Arthur asked again.

Merlin didn't answer.

"Honestly, you look awful." Arthur continued. "You look like you're starving."

Merlin just stared at him, his eyes the only answer Arthur needed.

"Oh god! You really are starving." Arthur exclaimed as the realisation hit him. "Why on earth wouldn't you tell me!?"

"I didn't want you to get mixed up in it all." Merlin muttered.

"I have food! I have plenty of food. You should have told me. I'll bring some tomorrow…"

"No." Merlin cut in.

"What do you mean no? You look lik…"

"It's too dangerous." Merlin insisted.

Arthur stood up, grabbing the book on the ground. "You look as if you are about to drop dead."

Merlin's eyes filled with guilt, but he didn't say anything.

"I'm bringing food. Tomorrow." Arthur said, then turned to leave. Merlin tried to protest, but Arthur was already halfway down the hill.

The next day it poured. Rain pelted the windows, it pooled in the yard turning the sad, pathetic, patch of dead grass into a sad, pathetic patch of mud. Arthur, his bag full of bread and cheese and scraps of meat he'd manage to steal from the pantry, wasn't about to let this stop him from returning to the fence, but as he tried slipping into the back garden, someone stopped him.

"Hey. Where are you going?" Boomed a voice from behind. Arthur turned around to see a young soldier walking towards him. His blonde hair and blue eyes matched Arthur's, and he only seemed to be a year or two older.

"I… uh… forgot something outside." Arthur answered quickly.

"You'll get soaked. Stay inside today." The soldier commanded.

"But…"

"You can get it when it stops raining." The soldier said, his voice softening. "I'm Fritz, by the way. And I assume you are Arthur?"

"Yeah." Arthur answered sullenly, turning away from the garden.

"Fritz!" Shouted a voice. A moment later Arthur's father marched into the room.

"I see you met my son." He said coldly. Fritz looked terrified, just like everyone else who had the misfortune to work for Uther.

"Get back to work! There is a transfer coming in from another camp, the train arrives this afternoon. Make sure the crematorium is fully operational."

Fritz nodded stiffly, then hurried from the room. Uther turned to leave, but paused just before he reached the door.

"Oh, and Arthur, you will be starting school tomorrow."

"What?!" Arthur nearly shouted. "Where? Will I be going into town?"

Uther laughed, actually laughed at that. "No! Of course not. I will not have you associating with the like of Poles." He spat, saying Poles as if the word itself was dirty. "I've hired a tutor. You and Morgana will share him. I trust he will give you a proper education that aligns with our beliefs." And with that, he left.

Arthur laid in the field next to the fence, staring up into the sky. Merlin sat on the other side of the fence, finishing up the last of the food Arthur had brought that day. Several days had passed since Arthur had started "school", which was just some old guy shoving books on him and ranting about how wonderful Hitler is. Most days now, he didn't have a chance to get away until five, and he always had to be back home before seven for dinner or the maids would get suspicious.

The lesson today had been particularly exhausting. Herr Schmidt, Arthur's tutor, had him and Morgana read through a pamphlet about the dangers of Jews. He didn't think there could be so many ways to say "Jews are greedy and will destroy everything that is right in the world", but the authors of the pamphlet really outdid themselves. They managed to fill 80 pages with just different variations of that. Arthur was sure his eyes were going to fall out.

"I hate having to have school." Arthur grumbled.

"I wish I could go to school." Merlin muttered.

"You don't go to school here?" Arthur asked.

"There is no school. I haven't been to a real school in three years."

"What?"

Merlin shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

"I was kicked out of school as soon as the war started."

"Why?" Arthur asked. Merlin stared at him for a moment, as if he was trying to decide if the question was real or not.

"Because I'm a Jew..." He said uncertainly.

Arthur immediately sat up. Surely Merlin was joking. But studying his face, he could see that he was being completely serious.

"What?! You're a Jew?"

"That's why I'm here." Merlin said, motioning around him.

Arthur stood up, not taking his eyes off Merlin.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked, the concern plastered across his face.

Arthur started backing away, his heart racing. How could he be so stupid!? Every warning about Jews that he's heard all his life suddenly raced through his mind. They were tricky. Cunning. Greedy. They only sought destruction. They'd want people like him dead. They had caused Germany to lose the Great War. On and on and on. Arthur stumbled back, not seeing clearly but knowing that he needed to get away, and quickly. He could hear Merlin asking where he was going as he started to run away. He crashed back into the forest, tearing his way back to the safety of his home.

It took three days for the fear to wear off. Then the guilt settled in. In those three days, Arthur had gone through every Nazi book, every Nazi pamphlet he'd been given. Description after description, and warning after warning. There was so much information about Jews. But no matter how hard Arthur tried, pulling at every memory he had of Merlin, he couldn't make any sense of it. Merlin was none of the things mentioned in the books. He didn't match any of the descriptions. It wasn't even close.

Arthur paced up and down the hallway in front of his room, reading through one of the shorter pamphlets for the 100th time, when he ran into Morgana. She was about to yell, then noticed what he was reading.

"It's about time." She muttered, then turned to go into her room.

"Wait!" Arthur yelled. She stopped, turning back to him. "I have a question."

"Alright." She said, though she sounded slightly annoyed.

Arthur held up the pamphlet he was reading, showing Morgana the text inside.

"It says that Jews are greedy, and that they only destroy Aryan culture." Arthur started. Morgana nodded. "Aren't there exceptions? They can't all be like that, right?" He asked.

Morgana looked at him curiously for a moment. She turned to look down the staircase to the first floor foyer, where several soldiers, including Fritz, were standing outside father's office. When she turned back to Arthur, something in her eyes had changed.

"No. They are all like that." She said. But her voice lacked the usual power it held, and her eyes, which usually lit up with pride when discussing matters of the Nazi party, just looked defeated. She silently slipped into her room without another word.

On the fourth day, Arthur returned to the fence. He wasn't sure what to expect when he returned. He didn't even know if Merlin would still be there. But as he reached the top of the hill, he could see Merlin sitting there, just as he always did. Merlin didn't say a word as Arthur took his usual spot in front of the fence, just stared at him. Arthur had expected Merlin to yell, or swear, or just leave, but he had not expected this. Not quite sure what else to say, Arthur took the package of food from his bag and handed it to Merlin through the fence. He looked so hungry that day. In Arthur's panic, he had forgotten how much Merlin relied on him for food.

"I'm an idiot." He said after a moment.

"You are a prat." Merlin agreed.

"I'm sorry. I've been told so many things about Jews my whole life. I've been raised to fear them at all costs. But I don't believe it. Any of it." Arthur continued. "They're all just stupid lies, that's all they are."

After a moment, Arthur added, "I really am sorry."

"I know." Merlin whispered.

Things between Arthur and Merlin quickly returned to normal, or as normal as things could get given the circumstances. Merlin seemed eager to put the incident behind them, and Arthur was immensely grateful for that. Still, things were far from easy.

Visiting Merlin every day was getting more difficult. School would often last until almost nightfall, and while Arthur blew off most of his school work, the little he did to get by without his father making a fuss was taking up most of his time. There were more soldiers around the house, too, it seemed. Slipping unnoticed into the garden was not such an easy task anymore. None of this discouraged Arthur, though. Merlin needed him. Arthur couldn't let him starve. But there was something else, too. Arthur couldn't stop thinking about the boy behind the fence, with his soft, blue eyes and gorgeous smile. Arthur couldn't stand to be away from him. He didn't even really know why he felt that way, he's never felt that way towards anyone before. Maybe it was just the whole fucked-up situation they were trapped in.

Arthur raced through the forest, clutching to his chest a bag full of every morsel of food he could swipe from the kitchen when the maids weren't looking. It was the first time in days Arthur had been able to slip away to the garden, and he was determined to make up the lost time (and food) to Merlin. Arthur didn't notice the freezing rain or the bitter wind that blew through the forest that day. Nothing could ruin Arthur's happiness today, he was going to see Merlin.

He reached the fence, and tossed the sack of food over to Merlin before taking his usually seat on the ground. Merlin didn't seem to notice the bag beside him, or the boy sitting in front of him. He remained curled in a tight ball, focusing intently on the dirt below him.

"Hey Merlin." Arthur said cheerfully, but received no response. Merlin stayed silent. A few moments past, before Arthur tried again. "Hey Mer…"

"I'm leaving." Merlin whispered, cutting Arthur off.

"What?"

Merlin hugged himself tighter, not taking his eyes off the ground. Arthur wanted nothing more than to hold to, protect him, do something, but the fence remained in his way, humming a soft warning of its deadly nature should he touch it.

"I'm being transferred." Merlin continued, finally meeting Arthur's eyes. "I don't know where."

Arthur tried to speak, but he couldn't form any words. Merlin couldn't leave! What would become of him without Arthur? He was weak as it was with the extra food, he'd surely starve somewhere else. And what would Arthur do without Merlin? He was the only friend he had.

"Have you any idea where you are going?" Arthur asked quietly, finally finding his voice.

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe another camp. Maybe just another part of this camp."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked. "Another part of this camp?"

"I think most people here are transferred to the other half of the camp, where the big chimney is." Merlin explained. He looked back to the ground. "I don't know what they do there."

"Father says they burn the rubbish there." Arthur said, remembering the last time the black smoke had blown over to the house. "They probably just need more people to help manage of the waste from the camp."

Merlin nodded, as if to say "oh".

"It's a farther walk, but I could still visit you." Arthur said, looking to the other end of the camp. It didn't look to be more than a kilometer or two.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Merlin whispered.

"Why not?" Arthur asked.

Merlin seemed unsure of a reason. "Well… um…" Arthur waited.

"There's uh… probably more guards there. You could get caught." Merlin said quickly. Arthur could tell he was lying, but he didn't push it.

"Anyway, I still have a few more days." Merlin added.

"I'll bring a feast, every single day we have left." Arthur promised.

It was a terribly cold morning, any hints of sunlight swallowed up by the clouds. A thick fog rolled over the land and a strong wind blew in from the north, carrying an awful stench that washed over the yard, and the house, and the garden. Arthur recognized the smell, it often hung heavy in the air around the fence in the field, but it had never reached the house with this intensity before. He simply didn't understand how rubbish could smell so terrible

Arthur sat silently on the front porch, a deep scowl on his face. He was missing one of his last days with Merlin, all because of some stupid meeting his father was holding. It seemed every Nazi in the country was at his house that day, or walking around the grounds. Sneaking away would be impossible with so many eyes watching him (and incredibly stupid to try). So Arthur was stuck on the porch (the meeting in the house was top secret, so he was kicked out) in a sour mood.

"Hello Arthur." Someone said from behind him. Arthur turned to lookup, just as Fritz sat down beside him. "You look cheerful."

"It is cold, I'm stuck outside and I've got nothing to do." Arthur said bitterly.

"You and me both." Fritz said sadly.

"Why aren't you in the meeting?" Arthur asked, still bitterly so Fritz wouldn't think they were friends. Every since the day they had met, Fritz had been trying to be friendly with Arthur. Arthur really didn't get why, maybe it was because he was the only one close to Fritz's age, but whatever the reason, Arthur wanted nothing to do with him. He was nice enough to Arthur, but he had heard how Fritz talked about the people in the camp. He was brutal, and bloodthirsty, and seemed to have no problem with starving children to death, in fact it made him laugh. Arthur also suspected that he fancied his sister, Morgana.

"Only senior officers allowed." Fritz explained.

"Oh." was all Arthur had to say.

A gust of wind blew through the yard, carrying the awful stench from the camp.

"Honestly, I don't understand how anything can smell this awful." Arthur muttered, choking on the air.

"They smell even worse when they burn, huh." Fritz said with a chuckle.

Arthur froze. "What?"

"Jews smell awful when they are burned." Fritz said more slowly.

"What do you mean when they are burned?"

"You didn't know? That's what the chimney's for, really that's what the whole place is for. It's not called an extermination camp for nothing."

Fritz laughed again, but shut up when he saw Arthur's face. A bizarre combination of rage and confusion, then finally fear.

"The people who are sent there, are they all burned?" Arthur asked, his voice shaking.

Fritz laughed, though somewhat uneasily. "Why are you freaking out? They're just Jews…"

Arthur didn't wait for Fritz to finish. He had already leapt off the porch and was halfway across, racing towards the garden as if his life depended on it. To hell with anyone who was watching, Arthur didn't care anymore.

"Where are you going?!" Fritz called after him, but Arthur was already out of sight.

Arthur tore through the garden and practically flung himself out of the small window in the shed. He could hear faint shouts in the distance as he hit the forest floor with a thud. He scrambled to his feet, his heart racing and his hands trembling. All he could hear was the pounding in his ears. Everything seemed to be spinning as Arthur stumbled through the forest, tripping over his own feet in his confusion and rage. He broke out of the forest and dragged himself across the field. He had no idea what he would do when he got to the fence, he had no plan and no way of breaking Merlin out even if he made it in time, but he didn't think about that now. All he could think about was Merlin.

As Arthur approached the fence, the smell grew worse. The air hung heavy with ash and smoke from the camp, making it hard for Arthur to breathe. What if he was too late? What if it was Merlin swirling in the air around him? The thought made Arthur want to vomit, but he pushed the feeling away and kept going. He had to get to the fence, he had to get to Merlin…

Arthur froze. There was the fence, standing tall in front of him as it always did, the land behind it was empty. There were no children working, no materials piled haphazardly around the field, and no boy sitting, waiting, in front of the fence. Everything was gone.

Everything seemed to stop. Arthur couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't make a sound. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. Another gust of wind blew through the field, and this time Arthur really did vomit. His leg gave out and he fell to his knees in front of the fence, choking on the air and choking on his tears. From behind him, something grabbed his shoulder and threw him back several feet.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Fritz shouted, towering over Arthur, who now was on his back in the dirt. Fritz reached down and pulled him to his feet roughly.

"Arthur! What the hell…"

Arthur finally found his voice. "How could you?!" He screamed. "You murderer! You disgusting piece of filth! They're people! They haven't done anything!"

"Calm down, Arthur!" Fritz shouted, still grabbing Arthur by the shoulders.

"Let go!" He hissed, then slapped Fritz across the face. "Let go!"

Arthur started throwing punches. "They didn't do anything!" Kicking and screaming and trying to hurt Fritz in anyway he could. Something cold hit him across the face, and Arthur collapsed to the ground.

"He didn't do anything. He didn't deserve this."

Everything was spinning, slipping away. Blood dripped into Arthur's eyes, but he couldn't feel any pain. Fritz stood above him, gun in hand, the handle stained bright red.

"We need to go. You can't be here." Fritz said softly, pulling Arthur to his feet. He started leading him back to the woods, as Arthur struggled to stumble along. He didn't fight back, he didn't care anymore. He just felt numb as Fritz dragged him along towards the house.

"I won't tell anyone where you were." Fritz said. "I can say you were in town."

"Why are you helping me?" Arthur mumbled.

Fritz stopped, and turned Arthur around so he was staring into his eyes.

"You know nothing about the smoke, or the chimney. You don't know anything about it, ok? It's a secret, and you know nothing about it."

"You weren't supposed to tell me." Arthur said, finally starting to understand.

Fritz turned him back around, and kept leading him towards the house.

"We'll both forget everything that just happened." Fritz said.