Gratitude was some something Uther wasn't accustomed to feeling. Usually, having so much money and all, he was the one being thanked for donating large sums to charities or schools.

But when he saw Merlin push his son out of the way, gratitude was the only thing he felt. Well, gratitude and a bit of a heart an attack. (Well, his son had been almost killed, after all, and it didn't help that Merlin was lying in a puddle of his own blood in the street.)

After everything had calmed down, he came to a conclusion; Merlin actually did love his son. Why else would he risk his life for him?

And how could you hate someone that tried to give their life for your child? Admittedly, Uther would always be a little envious of the way Arthur looked at Merlin, but now he saw that Merlin deserved those looks of adoration.

He also saw how devastated his son looked at the sight of his babysitter's limp body – hell, how devastated he looked when Uther fired him. If he separated them now, only terrible things would surly follow.

The only thing left unresolved was if Merlin was willing to forgive him.


Sitting in the waiting room, Arthur was getting impatient. First, he tried doing a weird thing with his fingers to keep him occupied, but soon found it hurt his still healing arm (he had broken it when Merlin had pushed him out of the way of the car). Next, he thought of things to say to Merlin – apologies, promises – when he ran out of ideas. And he defiantly was not going to sleep, like his daddy suggested.

Arthur sat at a small table, bottles of various potions adorning it. Every once in a while he would steal an apprehensive glance at the closed door of small antechamber off of the room. He hoped Gauis would finish up soon and tell him the condition of his manservant.

Yet again, the four year old shook off another "memory." Since he wasn't quite sure what they were, he called them "memories." (With the quotation marks and all.)

"Merlin Emrys?" a nurse called out. Arthur immediately jumped and grabbed his father's hand, tugging him over. The nurse smiled at the sight and led them through the double doors.

Arthur was jittery the whole walk down. First of all, he was excited to finally see Merlin and actually talk with him. Next, he wanted to know if Merlin was okay and where he needed to be kissed better (Merlin did that to him once, when he tripped and scraped his knee). And finally, he wanted to apologize to his Merlin. It was kinda his fault that the warlock got hit by a car.

They stopped outside a room and the nurse's face turned a bit grim. She looked at Uther when she spoke. "I must warn you, he's…a little addled at the moment."

Uther frowned as Arthur pretended not to pay attention. "I was told he was stable."

Lines of worry creased her forehead. "He is. Mr. Emrys is just not completely lucid at the moment. We think the impact of the car may have caused temporary brain damage. He keeps babbling away in some gibberish, and occasionally mumbles something about destiny."

Arthur's head snapped up. "Can I see him?"

She looked at Uther, who nodded. "Alright sweetie," she said, opening the door. The little boy ran in.

"Alætee mé áfeorse!" or "Let me go!" as Arthur heard, was what Merlin said as a doctor tried keeping him in the hospital bed.

"Mr. Emrys, please, calm down-"

Merlin, yet again, tried to get up, failing when his heavily casted leg prevented him from moving further. "Íc behéfþ æt áfeorse-" he started, then his now-wide eyes landed on the four year old. He instantly relaxed. "Arthur."

The doctor whirled around to face the little boy. Before he could chastise him, however, Arthur rushed past and ran up to Merlin, who immediately reached out and pulled the four year old on to his lap, damning his protesting broken ribs.

"ðu béo unswicenne, Merlin," Arthur whispered when he felt tears drip into his hair. "Bén ne wóp." Translated, what Arthur said was "You're alright, Merlin. Please don't cry."

"Íc cunnan" – 'I know' – "Íc – Íc – caru be ðu" – 'I was worried about you-'

"What?!" Arthur exclaimed, eyes flashing as he switched back to modern English. "Merlin!"

The warlock blinked a few times. "Ásce?" 'What?'

Arthur sighed, and sounded a bit like the Camelot version of himself. "Merlin, you can't worry about me when you're like this-" he gestured to all of the warlock. Suddenly tears rose in his eyes and he was back to four year old mode. "Merlin, never do that again!"

The warlock smiled. "Worried, were you?"

Arthur nodded and he buried his face in Merlin's hospital gown clothed chest. "Yes. I was really worried, Merlin. Thought you were dead."

Smiling, Merlin shook his head. "Nope. You're stuck with me."

When Arthur didn't reply, Merlin realized that he might be asleep, except the little boy suddenly popped up with tear glistened eyes, surprising the warlock like he did at Merlin's house before the accident. "I'm glad I'm stuck with you." Arthur swallowed and looked down. "Where does it hurt?"

"What?"

Arthur bit his lip and looked at his babysitter's face. He leaned forward and tried to press his lips to a scratch on Merlin's cheek, but stopped when the warlock hissed in pain. "Sorry!" he squeaked.

Merlin put a hand to his aching ribs. "It's alright. Just try not to touch my torso."

Arthur put his hand on top on Merlin, where it still lay on his ribs. "What's a torso?"

The naivetés of Arthur's question made Merlin smile. "A torso is almost like someone's middle. Our hands are currently on my 'torso'."

Arthur nodded and very seriously asked, "Does your middle hurt?"

"A bit, I guess. Why?"

Arthur bent down and pressed his lips lightly to Merlin's "torso." He pulled away with a smile. "Kissed it better!"

"That, you did," said Merlin, nodding his approval. "Feels better already."

Arthur beamed up at him and began kissing other places better, smiling each time when the warlock sighed in relief of pain.

Well, acted like he was relieved of pain. Truth be told, Arthur's "kissing it better" was actually jostling his ribs and pressing on places that caused more pain. But he was touched by the notion. This Arthur was very affection; more than the original. Maybe it had something to do with his age, but Merlin enjoyed it none-the-less.

"Merlin, why didn't you just heal yourself with magic?" Arthur asked when he was done.

When he heard Arthur say that, Merlin was a bit shocked, until he realized that he basically admitted to sorcery two months back. (Damn, Arthur had a good memory). He then realized that it was a pretty plausible question.

"Because your magic kisses made me better!" he exclaimed, poking the giggling and happy four year old on the nose. In reality, his reason for hiding his magic was the fact that people might notice if he had a broken leg on day and didn't the next. Besides, healing spells were never his forte.

"Then if I kiss you a lot, you'll never get hurt again?"

Merlin acted like he was thinking. "We'll just have to see."

Arthur smiled and began kissing him all over, with little kid kisses which usually were very sloppy, feather light, quick, and tight lipped. He tried not to hurt Merlin's ribs when he did so, but failed seeing how his kissing made the warlock laugh, then clutch his stinging side.

In the corner of the room, Uther watched, his face betraying no emotion. The only thing readable about him was his eyes, which showed happiness at his son's joy.

And, alright, maybe there was a bit of jealousy in there too.


A/N: Pfffft, who needs sleep? Sorry, guys but I've been up late trying to write this chapter for almost three day now. Yeah...SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!

Was this chapter too much? IDK...

Oh, and my new kitty (named Merlin!) wished to say hello:

?

He stepped on the question mark key.

And, some people asked why muffins are evil. Just because. I have a whole thingy about it on my profile, after all the shit about myself. You can check it out if you want.

Oh, and *blush, smile* Thanks for reviewing guys! I got some REALLY REALLY REEEEEEEEEALLY nice ones this time 'round. I squeed so hard my mom threated me with...*shudders* muffins, if I didn't shut up. So, thanky yous!

Well, until next time...(may the magics be ever in your favor!)

(and beware of muffins.)