Gaius looked up from where he was standing, frantically skimming a text, and he seemed both relieved and upset to see the king and his ward in the doorway.

"Merlin!" The physician cried. He walked toward the younger man, but stopped short. "Merlin, I am so sorry. I failed you. I should have known."

The servant's eyes were focused on the floor. He didn't really know what Gaius was talking about, and since he was with the king right now, the only words that he needed to listen to closely were his.

"Gaius, what's going on? I woke up this morning with all these... memories, as if yesterday I had been... I remember a year's worth of time that I was someone else. Does that make any sense? And Merlin's acting strange, which isn't really that unusual..." Arthur's near attempt at making fun of the man fell flat as the frigid coil of dread in his gut grew worse. He looked Gaius in the eye. "I think I've done something terrible."

"I fear that you are not alone in this, sire." The physician replied somberly. "I believe that many of us were possessed, or even cursed. For a year. You, me, the knights... I don't know who else, I've mostly stayed in this wing the whole time, as far as I can remember. But Merlin..." Gaius looked at Merlin, who was still standing at Arthur's side with his head bowed. "I was terrible to him."

Arthur shuddered. "It's nothing compared to what I did." He took a deep breath, shook his head, then stormed over to a wall and punched it, his knuckles cracking against the stone.

Merlin flinched.

"Merlin," Gaius said softly. "It's over."

No response.

"Merlin," Arthur tried. The servant looked up in question. "Did you hear him?"

Merlin suddenly looked nervous. He'd been caught not paying attention, and he didn't know what to say.

As he saw this reaction, Arthur remembered every time in the past year that he'd felt his own face contort into a sneer, a grin, or a frown when he found a fault in Merlin's behavior and set out to... correct it. The flashbacks made him want to hurl again. He steeled himself - he had to act more like a king and less like a friend in shock - and clarified.

"Everything that happened this year wasn't what it seemed. None of us wanted to hurt you."

The servant blinked. "What?" He asked quietly, confused.

Arthur looked to Gaius. Before he could try to explain further with the bits information he could grasp, the door opened by them and the knights rushed in. Merlin took a step back. Gwaine was first, looking desperate; Leon was next, looking like he was struggling to maintain his composure; and Percival was last, his face downcast though not concealing the tears that were falling from his eyes. The servant had no idea what to make of all this.

The knights looked to Gaius first - after all, they had come to ask him about what they had remembered as well - then they saw Arthur, and each man looked guiltier and angrier than before. Finally, they saw Merlin. Gwaine knelt at his feet with his head bowed. Percival followed with a quiet sound of emotion. Leon remained standing, but it seemed to be only out of habit of remaining presentable in royal court.

"Merlin," Gwaine breathed. "My friend, I cannot apologize enough for..." He faltered. Percival released a shaky breath and dipped his head lower.

The servant was staring at the scene. He was so blown away, confused, replaying the past year in his head. "Oh," Merlin finally spoke.

The others all looked at him, their expressions ranging from remorseful to agonized. Merlin took a step back, feeling a little overwhelmed. He looked away. "You don't have to."

"Yes we do," Leon asserted. "It was like the... the Lamia. I had no control, but I felt the hate, the rage... I remember it all. I want you to know-"

"It wasn't really you." Merlin nodded, looking away. "I understand."

Everyone seemed to falter in their bravado to speak. Gaius took the opportunity to step in. "Let me look you over, my boy."

As Gaius gestured, Merlin walked over to the med cot and carefully sat down.

"If you don't mind, sire, I think that he needs some time." The physician suggested to the king. Arthur looked at the servant a moment longer, then to his men.

"We'll leave you to your work, then." With that, the band of mournful men left.

Gaius returned to his ward and sat on the stool across from him. Without being asked, the servant took off his shirt with difficulty. The physician let him do it alone, not wanting to invade on his space, then was glad he was sitting down when he saw the young man's injuries. Immediately, he could tell that his right arm was broken, and maybe dislocated as well. And that clavicle was so bruised, it was likely fractured. His wrists were darkly bruised, as well as his neck as the neckerchief came off. There were livid bruises across his chest, marked intermittently by cuts and scrapes. And the physician was stopped still by the array of scarred and still healing burns along his left flank.

Gaius looked up to his face, with the black eye and split lip, cataloging the injuries and how they must hurt, how afraid he must have been, but the boy was looking away.