Gaius looked up from the medical text he had been reading and set down his magnifying glass. It was later than he had realized. The candles burned low and the embers in the fireplace had nearly died out. Resolving to turn in, Gaius shuffled over to his bed, but halted when he heard a quiet moan emanate from the back room.
Merlin.
Gaius hurried to Merlin's room as fast as his age would allow him and sat down on the bedside in relief. Merlin was merely dreaming. It did not however; appear to be a very good dream. Merlin's slumber was fitful; tossing and turning were interspersed with more moans. Ever the physician, Gaius leaned over and felt Merlin's forehead. He didn't seem to have a fever; only the clammy skin of a person in the grips of a nightmare.
"Shhh, my boy," Gaius whispered, stroking Merlin's forehead. "It's alright."
Gaius loved Merlin like a son, but he couldn't bring himself to refer to the boy as such. Merlin knew Gaius cared for him deeply and even acknowledged Gaius as the closest thing he had to a father, but… It just felt… wrong. Gaius had known Merlin's father, Balinor; he had sent him to Hunith himself! It was especially inappropriate now that Merlin had met Balinor himself just in time to mourn his death.
But…
In times like these when Merlin suffered from the responsibility that burdened his narrow shoulders and the stupid boy refused to tell Gaius and let him help and Gaius was forced to endure poorly concealed lies, mysterious disappearances, and an overwhelming concern for his boy-
In times like these when Merlin couldn't hear him, Gaius couldn't resist.
"Hush now, my son," he murmured lovingly to Merlin who was whimpering in distress. Caressing the boy's hair and forehead, he continued "You're safe; I've got you." At the soothing words, Merlin calmed down and leaned into Gaius's hand.
My son.