Chapter Thirteen.

Arthur was moved back into the main building. He was in a room he'd never been in before. It looked somewhat like his room in the dormitories, but much barer. There was no window, for one thing, and there was no bedside table, paintings, or a telly. It was just a hospital bed in a white room. There was an IV, too. Arthur glared at it unsurely out of the corner of his eye as it stood next to his bed.

He assumed they weren't going to perform the surgery in that room. More machines were needed for brain surgery, weren't they? He would probably never see the surgery room in a conscious state, and that was probably supposed to make him feel better. No one wants to see the big, scary room in which they're to be cut open. However, Arthur would have preferred it. He wanted to see all the tools, to know Eleazar couldn't hide anything else from him.

Maybe he could cut them open, too.

The door clicked open, and Scott walked through with Gloria in tow. As usual, she did not speak. She simply ducked her head and moved straight towards the IV, which she began fiddling with.

Scott came to Arthur's side, smiling amicably. It enraged Arthur like it had on their first meeting.

"How are you feeling, Arthur?" Scott asked, placing a solid hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Nervous?"

Arthur glowered down at Scott's hand as his skin tensed against the contact. He shifted to move away from it. "No," he said shortly. It was a lie.

"Excellent," Scott said, seeming to buy it. "There's no reason to be."

Gloria lifted up the tube of the IV and secured a needle to the end of it. She reached for Arthur's arm, and he had to make a conscious effort not to rip it back away. She ran a cotton ball, with something wet and cold on it, across his skin and gently pushed the needle into a blue vein. As she was taping it down, her hand slipped and she gave a sharp gasp. Arthur almost retracted because of it, but he instead wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow at her.

She glanced directly up at him and held his gaze for a long time. Her expression was blank and her eyes lifeless. He didn't know what to make of it.

"This is an anesthetic," he realized Scott was saying. Arthur tore his attention away from Gloria to Scott, and the first thing he noticed was the syringe and vial of clear liquid in the doctor's hands. "It'll put you to sleep and, when you wake up, we'll have you all sorted out."

"Good," Arthur said as he tried to steel himself. He suddenly wasn't so sure about this anymore. He didn't want Scott giving him another injection, and he certainly didn't want to be asleep while the doctors did god knows what to his head. He didn't want to die. He'd missed so much the last time. Merlin said he'd saved plans for the both of them, and Arthur didn't want to miss a single one of them.

He watched the vial and needle being passed over him as Scott handed it to Gloria. She filled the syringe with the anesthetic without a word and brought the needle towards the IV tube.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Arthur," Scott said, causing Arthur to make eye contact again. He already felt a little drowsy, but maybe he was just imagining it. "Could you count backwards from one hundred for me?"

"One hundred," Arthur began.

Scott nodded in encouragement,

"Ninety-nine . . ."

Gloria walked away from the IV and crossed to the end of the bed.

"Ninety-eight . . ."

Arthur's heart was pounding in his throat with a growing sense of dread.

"Ninety-seven . . ."

Gloria was at Scott's side.

"Ninety-six . . . ninety-five . . ."

Arthur would have missed it if he blinked. Gloria had jabbed the still-full syringe in Scott's neck and pushed down on the stopper. Scott let out a cry in shock, and his hands instinctually flew towards the point of assault.

But his limbs soon went limp, causing him to fall into Gloria. She was ready for it, and she guided him towards the floor, not very gently. She tossed the needle down apathetically. It landed on Scott's chest.

Arthur didn't realize how wide his eyes were until Gloria faced him.

"We don't have much time," she told him in a hurried voice. As she spoke, she reached over him and took the IV out of his arm. "We're getting out of here now, Arthur. Meet me by the building's exit. Go now."

Arthur rattled his head, trying to figure out when she'd started talking in full sentences.

"What do you mean—?"

"We don't have time for questions, you prat!"

Arthur's mouth dropped open.

"Merlin?"

Merlin rolled Gloria's eyes. "No, Elvis," he said with her voice.

It was Merlin, alright.

"Run, Arthur."

Before Arthur could ask a question they apparently didn't have time for, Gloria gasped again, and her eyes sparkled gold. When the color faded, she dropped to the floor next to Scott.

Arthur blinked a few times, trying to recover. When he did, he sprang out of bed and swooped down at Scott's side. Arthur hurriedly fished for his mother's ring in the pocket of Scott's lab coat. He quickly located it and slipped it back on. Then, he jumped over the two unconscious forms and tore the door back. He ran in the direction he'd come from when he was brought into the room.

Every CCTV camera he raced by was off, its red light dead. The corridors were empty and silent, all but for the pounding of his trainers against the tile. He thought the echo might give him away.

He rushed into a connecting hallway, only to be knocked into by something hard and moving fast. Arthur didn't let out a yelp, even though his toe had been stepped on, but Merlin did as he backpedalled.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried once he realized who it was.

"We have to move," Merlin told him, evidently too single-minded to moan about his minor injuries at the moment. He started down the hallway again, but Arthur grabbed him by the arm and spun him back around.

"Wait, where's Woo?"

"I took care of her," Merlin said vaguely. "But she'll be after us any second. Come on!"

Arthur didn't follow him. He wasn't going towards the exit, not yet.

"We have to go to Wilt's office first," he said, making Merlin stop dead again. When he turned around, he looked panicked.

"Arthur, we have to go," he stressed urgently.

Arthur shook his head. "I'm not leaving without proof," he said with determination. "We're not far from it."

"Arthur—"

"We're going." Arthur grabbed Merlin by the wrist and dragged him in the opposite direction from the exit. Merlin stammered a little, no doubt trying to find the right string of words to convince Arthur, but nothing would work. Arthur's mind was made up.

By the time they reached the office wing, all the doors were closed. Arthur held his hand up, stopped walking, and let go of Merlin's arm. Merlin bumped into his back before he stopped, too.

Arthur scanned for any signs of life. Once he was sure all the doctors were out for their daily appointments, he waved his hand forward, signaling for them to move. He crept along the hallway for extra measure, but his eyes were fixed on the red door.

It was locked when they reached it. Arthur jiggled the polished metal lever, but it only wiggled fractionally in both ways before jamming. There didn't appear to be a keyhole either. Just as Arthur was about to throw his shoulder into the wood in desperation and frustration, Merlin said his name.

He was pointing to a small, digital keypad screen built into the wall next to the door. Arthur blinked at it, not quite sure what it was for.

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"It needs a pass code," Merlin explained. "It opens the door."

Arthur peered tentatively over his shoulder at the security camera. The red light was still off, but it was pointed in their direction, staring at them with its black, cold eye. It made the hairs on his neck stand on end like he was being watched.

"Keep a look out," Merlin told him, attracting Arthur's attention. He was staring down the keypad intently, like he was daring it to make the first move.

Arthur turned away again to look down the corridor. It remained motionless, and he strained his ears for any footsteps or alarms. It occurred to him that the alarms could be silent.

"There's no one coming."

Behind him, there was a clicking sound, and Merlin's hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him back.

"Come on," Merlin said, releasing Arthur and nodding into the office's open door.

"How'd you get it opened so fast?" Arthur had been looking away for hardly a moment.

Merlin held his hand up and twiddled his fingers like it was obvious.

"Ah," said Arthur, and really, he supposed magic did come in handy, after all. He followed Merlin into the room, and Merlin closed the door behind them as quietly as he could.

It turned out Wilt's office wasn't the dramatic hardwood-floored, mahogany-desked vision he'd expected. It was rather plain. Unlike Scott's, it wasn't cluttered; unlike Woo's, no pictures littered the white walls. There was a bookshelf on one wall, full of what looked like academic tomes, and a glossy steel desk with a wheelie chair towards the back of the room. The only thing on the desk was a lamp. A browning plant drooped its tears in the corner.

"This is a waste of time," Merlin said adamantly. Arthur had to admit, he felt a little disheartened by the state of the office. However, he wasn't going to let simplistic décor deter him.

"Look around," he ordered.

Merlin stood still as Arthur went to the bookcase. It was covered in thick layers of dust, and he searched for a clean spot to indicate something had recently been touched. There was nothing. He pulled out a random book and flipped through it for notes in the margins, but he was met with only clean white pages and typed text. Groaning, he replaced the book.

"Maybe there's a—a fake book or something," Arthur reached. He ghosted his hands over the books, unsure of which one to pick.

"That does what? Opens a trap door to Wilt's secret laboratory when it's pulled back?" Merlin quipped.

"No!" Arthur tried not to feel ridiculous, especially because Wilt actually did have a secret lab, just not in the building. He gave a wave of his wrist, searching for the words. "Like a hollowed out book to keep something in. Like one of those—those memory stick thingies."

There was always a hollowed out book in movies.

He dropped his hand in frustration at the incredulous look on Merlin's face. Annoyed, Arthur said, "I don't see you coming up with any ideas, Merlin!"

When Merlin didn't answer, Arthur left the bookcase behind to try his luck at the desk. He immediately noticed it wasn't dusty. Not at all. He ran the tip of his finger along the surface to make sure.

"He's been here," he said surely. He felt his skin vibrate with exhilaration.

"What?"

Merlin had finally moved, if only a few steps forward.

Arthur leaned down at started pulling out drawers. When rifling through them, he found nothing but junk until he got to the last one. Inside, hidden under two blank notepads, was a laptop. His breath caught as he handled it delicately between his hands, like it was the Holy Grail, and stood up.

"It's warm," he realized aloud. His cheeks cracked, and he gave a breath of laughter. "Merlin, he's been here! The videos must be on this!"

"Good, fine. Let's take it with us," Merlin urged, bouncing up and down nervously as he gestured back towards the door.

Arthur hardly heard him. He had placed the laptop on the desk and unfolded it. It was already powered on, but it gave him a locked screen.

"It needs a password," he told Merlin. He glanced over the screen, noticing that Merlin hadn't moved closer. Arthur gritted his teeth. "Well? Don't just stand there! Unlock it!"

Merlin hesitated, but he soon crossed the room, and Arthur stood away to give him better access to the computer. Merlin's eyes flashed when he held his palm over the keyboard, and the lock screen faded into the purple galaxy-themed desktop.

Merlin bent over the laptop and started searching the files. It was taking too long, and Arthur was getting antsy. He'd expected the folder they needed to pop up immediately.

"Anything?" he inquired.

"I'm looking," Merlin barked back.

Arthur wasn't patient enough for that. "Let me see," he demanded, shoving Merlin out of the way. He realized he had no idea what he was doing, so he started clicking random icons and files. Nothing looked like what they needed.

He clicked on something. He wasn't sure what. But the screen turned black for a heart-stopping moment, and then white block letters began racing down the screen. It looked like gibberish. It was a string of symbols, numbers, and letters. Arthur tried to make heads or tails of it, but couldn't. It looked like the notes in Wilt's books.

"What is this?" he asked Merlin, who was already looking over his shoulder.

Merlin's face had gone neutral as he stared. "It's a formula," he said at last.

"For Fisher?" Arthur guessed.

Merlin shook his head stiffly and his gaze fell downward. "I don't know," he said in a small voice.

Arthur straightened up quickly and slammed the laptop closed. "We're taking this with us," he decided, shoving it under his armpit. "Someone in this world has to be less useless than you are."

He rounded the desk with Merlin at his heels and started for the door. When he pulled it open, he was met by four figures standing in the doorway. There was Woo, her assistant Phillip, Scott, and, in front of the crowd, a guard Arthur recognized as the man who had stunned him and taken him to Eleazar. He was carrying that black, flat gun again.

He fired it, and Arthur flinched in preparation for pain. However, it never came. There was a buzzing noise close behind him, drowning out a distant humming. The flat part of the gun, still connected by wires, had attached itself to Merlin's chest. Merlin shook violently until the pulses faded and he fell to the floor.

Arthur watched with wide eyes as Merlin grunted and tensed until he eventually fell still. He squared his jaw, hardened his eyes, and glared at Woo.

"Thank you, Beckett. We don't want him playing any tricks," she said casually to the guard. Her eyes scanned down to the laptop in Arthur's arms, and she held her palm upright like a child demanding a sweet. "Give that here, Arthur."

Arthur swallowed hard but he kept her gaze. He tried going through his options. Every muscle was urging him to fight. He'd die before he gave that laptop to Woo. He wished more than ever that he had his sword. Then he remembered Merlin. He wouldn't leave him, not for a second.

He ruefully handed the laptop to Woo.

"Good boy," she said when it was safely in her hands. She looked to Phillip and the guard, Beckett. "Take them to their rooms."

Arthur didn't put up a fight as Phillip took his arm and started leading him out of the office, but he did throw Scott a hateful glare. Behind him, he was aware of Beckett picking Merlin off the floor.

Arthur was behind glass again. It felt more like a prison now, and less like he was the main attraction at a museum. The way the florescent light was glaring off the glass made his head pound and his stomach turn, but he remained on his feet with a scowl painting his face.

Merlin was in his cell, still unconscious and dumped into a fetal position too far away from his mattress. Arthur didn't give Woo the satisfaction of getting angry about it.

Scott was at the desk, leaning over it instead of sitting in the chair, as he searched the contents of Wilt's laptop. Meanwhile, Woo paced nearby with her arms crossed tightly and her red fingernail tapping her elbow impatiently. The clacking her shoes were making did nothing for Arthur's head.

"Well?" she demanded after a few minutes. "Have you found anything yet? Where is he?"

"Patience, Eliza," Scott told her softly. "I'm trying. And I'm still a bit—," he rubbed at his head, and Arthur felt a spike of pleasure, "—muddled."

Merlin groaned, making Arthur reflexively look towards him. He was fidgeting in wakefulness—stretching out on the floor, tensing his muscles, grunting. He must have finally remembered what had happened, because he shot up to his knees with his hand holding the back of his head. He squinted around, assessing the situation. His face contorted into resigned acceptance of their current predicament. "Oh, Arthur," he moaned in half-agony, half-disappointment.

Woo must have noticed him wake up, too, because her voice rang out in a dry tone, "Yes, you were so close, too. Such a shame."

"Thanks for the sympathy, Lizzy," Merlin grunted as he struggled to his feet, and Woo shot him a warning glare. "I know, I know. Don't call you that."

"That's right," said Woo, smiling like a cat with a mouse in its talons. She knew she was the top of the food chain, the strongest predator in the room, and she had her prey exactly where she wanted it.

Merlin caught Arthur's eyes. They were still a little bloodshot and wounded. He dropped his shoulders in a breath, but he continued to stare. It was like he was trying to tell Arthur something, trying to prepare him for what was to come next. Arthur tried to ready himself for anything, but his concentration was broken by a gasp from near the desk.

"He found it," Scott said. He sounded breathless, disbelieving. It sounded foreboding to Arthur. He stood up a little straighter, his eyes wide and fixed on the laptop as though he could see through it to the screen.

Scott was still hunched over it, unblinking. He seemed fascinated by his own words.

Woo's aggressive expression softened in the meantime. She spun around to face Scott at breakneck speeds.

The only person who didn't react was Merlin. Arthur could still feel his eyes boring into him.

"What do you mean, he's found it?" Woo demanded hopefully. "Found what?"

"Fisher! He perfected the serum," Scott said with absolute certainty. "It's all right here."

"That's not possible. He would have told me about—Why didn't he—?" Woo's heels pounded against the tiles as she paced towards Scott. "Get out of my way, let me see," she commanded while pushing him out of the way and leaning into the screen. Scott backed up like a scolded dog.

"What does it say?" Woo snapped, unable to decipher the formulas before her.

"They're synthetics."

Arthur whipped his eyes towards Merlin. He's the one who had said it, not Scott. Arthur tried to tell himself that Merlin was just going off what he'd seen of the formula in Wilt's office. But something churned in his stomach at the blank, unreadable expression on Merlin's face. His gaze wasn't traced with shock. He wasn't fishing to remember a code he'd just happened to memorize minutes earlier.

Scott snorted in laughter, bringing Arthur back to reality.

"I should say so." He pointed to something on the screen, showing Woo. "These strings would be impossible to create, even in a lab. I think Wilt found the cure in theory, not practice."

"But if they could be created?" Woo schemed.

"They can't be," Scott maintained, shaking his head. "Perhaps with a bit of prayer."

"Or magic," Woo said. Her predator's smirk fixed itself on Merlin. "Which we have."

Merlin remained distant, observing, like a scientist watching a troop of monkeys learn how to swing from a tree for the first time.

Arthur didn't like that look at all.

"There's something else here, too," Scott said like he'd noticed it for the first time. "A genetic code. DNA."

"Who's? A patient's?"

"I'm running it through the database now," Scott told her as he thwacked at the keyboard. Arthur let the clicking sound go right through him. He remembered the DNA samples Scott took from him on his first day in the facility. It felt like years ago.

For the first time, Merlin's stony expression slipped. He took a deep inhale, steadying but shaky. His hands curled into balls and clenched. He turned his head slowly to Arthur. There was something pleading lining his eyes.

Arthur locked onto that gaze, silently imploring Merlin to stop. Stop giving me that look. Stop giving up. Fight. Use your magic. Get us out of here while they're distracted. Stop giving me that damned look, Merlin, you're scaring me.

"There are two matches," Scott's voice echoed from somewhere very far away. As he continued to speak, the words got louder until they were screaming in Arthur's ears. He thought he was about to have another fit. "One of them is Wilt's. He used his own DNA—But."

"Who's the other match?" Woo asked impatiently. "Scott?"

Scott looked up from the laptop. "Him."

He was looking at Merlin.

The guarded expression was back on Merlin's features, and Arthur's mind went vacant. His whole world boiled down to that one word, that one, numbing syllable: Him.

He must have looked so silly with his lips parted and his eyes searching the room blankly like the white walls held an answer to all his questions.

"Who is he to you?" Woo demanded, her tone as sharp and her shoes blaring as she marched in front of Merlin. "A son? A grandson?"

Merlin didn't answer.

"No, Eliza, that won't be it," Scott told her. "Their DNA coding . . . It's not similar. It's a match, one hundred percent. It's exactly the same."

The walls didn't provide Arthur with his answers. They shattered. Something inside him broke along with them. The pain it caused a cut deeper than Mordred's sword ever did, and he thought it might leave a scar.

"No," he said, determined not to believe it, but Merlin was giving him those eyes again. Or, no, he was giving them to the floor. "It's a mistake. It has to be."

Merlin didn't answer. Arthur clamped his jaw tight enough to break a tooth. His muscle shook under the pressure, his body getting ahead of mind in its fury.

"He's right," Woo agreed, but she was still looking directly at Merlin. Only, now she was regarding him like he might have been the predator all along. "I know Dr. Wilt. I've seen him a hundred times! He's—he's an old man. Old! With a long white beard and hair, and—and wrinkles!"

Arthur closed his eyes slowly. Behind them, he saw the old sorcerer on the cliffs in Camlann.

Arthur had been angry the last time. He'd been scared, even. He didn't have the energy for that anymore. He felt cold. His breath shook frigidly when it rattled past his teeth. Goosebumps prickled his skin.

"No, Merlin," he whispered in a low voice. One last attempt at denial.

"Arthur."

Merlin's voice hitched into the name like it was the last think he'd ever say. It was thick and apologetic. So were his red eyes when Arthur met them. But Merlin didn't actually say the words asking for forgiveness. He knew it would be a waste of breath.