Chapter Twenty.

Arthur scanned the pile of blood bags on the workbench. Scott had already taken most of the stuff for the formula, which was slowly turning its sickly yellow color as it steeped in vials. They'd been at it for hours. Scott looked exhausted, and Arthur felt as though he could do with some sleep himself. However, neither of them compared to Merlin.

He sat quietly at the workbench in the back of the room with tubes splaying from both his arms. One was attached to the bag of crimson that flowed in, while another on his opposite arm flooded out. There was a third connected to a saline drip, but Arthur didn't think it was doing much to keep Merlin hydrated. His lips were too cracked and dry.

Scott checked on him every so often to test his vitals. Arthur went over more frequently. At first, Merlin tried to joke, but more recently he'd been staring into space whenever anyone came by, like he was watching a very long movie about every detail he would have changed in his life.

Twice, Arthur had thought Merlin stopped breathing, but then he would blink and Arthur would remember to breathe, too.

Merlin looked like death warmed up. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his complexion was drained and white as paper. Arthur thought, if he poked him, Merlin would disintegrate under the pressure. He couldn't stand how weak he looked. It made his stomach slosh with guilt.

"Alright, that's enough," Arthur told him, moving to rip the needle out of Merlin's arm, but Merlin jerked it away.

"No, it isn't," he croaked. "We need more."

"You need to rest," Arthur asserted. "No one benefits if you die."

"And other people will die if I don't do this."

He sounded weary, but hopeful that Arthur would accept his wishes and he wouldn't have to waste any more breath arguing. Arthur wondered if he was doing this to punish himself. Penance came in extreme forms for Merlin: immortality first, and now the possibility of death and the assurance of life without magic. It would be like losing a limb.

Arthur was suddenly doubtful that the lives of thousands of strangers were worth a strand of hair on Merlin's head.

"Arthur," Merlin said when he was sure Arthur wasn't about to fight back. "I'm sorry I lied to you. Again."

He smiled a little sadly, with an air of finality. He was giving up. Arthur wouldn't allow him to say goodbye.

"As long as it doesn't happen again," he answered softly, and Merlin scoffed bitterly.

"No, I can promise you that."

"I'm scared to ask, but are there any other secrets I should know about?" Arthur joked, trying to lighten the moment, trying to make Merlin's grin genuinely. If he could do that, it might knock some sense into Merlin.

Merlin seemed to consider the question, and he said, "I bloody hate that scarf you gave me last Christmas."

Arthur couldn't stop himself from chuckling. He'd already guessed as much, but he played along anyway. "Is that why you never wore it?" he said dryly. "I'm shocked."

It seemed his plan had worked. Merlin was rumbling with silent laughter, and his cheeks stretched in an, albeit drugged sort of, smile.

Arthur's expression faded as he took in Merlin's state. Before, Merlin had said he didn't want to die because there was still too much to do. Arthur wanted to do those things together.

"Dwi'n dy garu di," he whispered, because it was still true.

Merlin's eyes swept up to his, grateful and suddenly misty. He nodded. "I love you, too."

"Yeah? How much?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

"Then, stop this," Arthur pleaded, seizing his chance. He looked down at the needle still stuck in Merlin's vein. "We'll save who we can. You've given enough, Merlin."

Merlin followed his gaze, seeming contemplative at first. "Okay," he said finally.

Arthur was relieved. He turned towards Scott and motioned him over.

Fisher had been separated into small vials, and those from the prison camp that had stayed helped sort them into carts and bring them to the canteen. Scott instructed the nurses and doctors present to administer the formula, and had patients form queues. Tables and chairs were pushed against the walls, and soon the canteen looked like a makeshift medical room. A few members of staff were sent to the morgue and told to give the drug to as many fresh corpses as they could, but the living took precedent.

Arthur walked around the canteen, surveying the process. The queues were dwindling down, and the carts were nearly empty. He hoped there were enough doses left for everyone, but he doubted they would be able to spare any more for the dead. Sometimes he cursed himself for not being able to help everyone, but then his eyes would find Merlin in the crowd. As it turned out, they did have to wheel Merlin out of the lab, but Arthur was happy it was in a wheelchair rather than a gurney, no matter how much Merlin complained.

Arthur found Scott amongst a group of patients who had already received Fisher. One of them was saying she didn't feel any different than she had before, and Scott was assuring her she'd see results swiftly. Arthur called him over.

"I do hope this formula works quickly," Scott prattled as Arthur led him out of earshot from anyone else. "Do you remember how long before it took full effect on you?"

"A few days, I think," Arthur answered shortly. He didn't know how long it had actually been, but he didn't care. Now wasn't the time to dwell on his return. He needed to think about the present. Merlin had borrowed one of the doctor's mobiles to check the news. In a matter of hours, the videos Toby posted had gone viral worldwide and attracted the attention of "some very important people." Ten minutes ago, the Department of Heath issued a statement saying a full investigation would be conducted on Eleazar, and they would fully cooperate with the authorities.

But the public would be out for blood. Arrests had to be made, and soon.

It hardly surprised Arthur anymore, how quickly information was spread in this century. He was used to it by then. More than that, he expected it.

"The police will be on their way now," he told Scott, whose expression turned to gloom. He understood what was to be his fate.

"I suppose so," he agreed with a sigh. "You and Merlin will want to get out of here, I assume?"

"No," Arthur told him. He had Merlin had already discussed it. "We're staying here until we know everyone has found their way home. We'll just act like normal patients and let the pieces fall where they may. As for you—," Arthur reach into his pocket and pull out a half-full vial of the yellow potion. He pressed it into Scott's palm. "As promised. Merlin says there's enough in there for one dose. You should have a bit of time before the police come knocking down your door. Go home. Save your wife."

Scott stammered down at the vial like he couldn't quite believe he was finally holding it. "My god," he said a few times before following it up with, "How do you know I won't keep it as evidence for the investigation? It has Merlin's DNA in it. I can make a deal with the police for it. I can connect him to what's happened here."

"You could," Arthur agreed. It had been Merlin's worry, and Arthur had his reservations, too. But Scott wasn't all bad. He had some good in him; Arthur had seen it, just as he had seen some tenderness in Woo. People of this century seemed obsessed with debating the goodness of humanity, but it was an arbitrary topic to dwell upon. One can't and shouldn't separate people into such categories. Arthur, like Uther, used to believe he could split people into groups, black and white, good and evil; and then one day Merlin made a dragon leap from the flames of a campfire.

"But I have to believe you'll do the right thing," Arthur went on. "Curing your wife is the reason you did this. Your life is over, but hers doesn't have to be."

He could tell Scott was thinking about it, but he didn't take much convincing.

"I don't know what to say," Scott said. He wrapped his fingers around the vial and looked at Arthur with his kind eyes. Arthur did not return the fondness.

"Don't say anything," he answered harshly. "Just get out of my sight."

Scott's face fell into something wounded, but he didn't say anything else. He shoved the dose of Fisher into his pocket and hurried for the exit.

"What did he say?" Merlin said from behind Arthur, making him spin around. Still in the wheelchair, Merlin was rolling himself over, and it looked like he was having a hard time of it. Arthur stuck his foot out to jam the wheel. It made Merlin jerk forward slightly, and it earned Arthur a glare.

"This fucking thing," Merlin cursed. "I don't need it!"

"Quiet, or I'll put you in a nursing home," Arthur threatened, and Merlin mocked laughter.

"What did he say?" he asked again, ignoring Arthur's sideways grin. "Did he take it?"

"He did." Arthur walked to the back of the chair and started wheeling Merlin around. From the looks of it, it seemed all the patients were taken care of. Half a crate was left, and some of the former prisoners were taking it out of the canteen, no doubt headed for the morgue.

"Will he save himself or his wife?" Merlin asked bitterly.

"I suppose we'll find out soon."

Merlin grumbled, "You have too much faith in people."

Arthur scoffed lightly. "I think you'll find people can surprise you. You surprised me, after all."

"Which time? When I told you about my magic or when you found out I killed innocent people to bring you back?" Merlin shot back. "Neither of them were very good surprises."

Arthur smiled softly to himself, even though Merlin couldn't see it. "Maybe I was speaking in general terms. You've surprised me every day from the day we met."

Merlin chuckled. "Weren't ready for me, were you?"

"No."

There was more weight in Arthur's tone than he'd intended, more memory. Merlin grabbed one of the wheels to make it stop moving, and Arthur immediately halted. Merlin looked at him from over his shoulder, trying to read Arthur's expression. Arthur didn't know if he was giving anything away, but Merlin had soft eyes and didn't say another word on the matter.

"I want to talk to Eliza before the police show up," Merlin said, breaking the pause. "I owe her an explanation."

"I think she owes you one, too," Arthur agreed. He tried wheeling Merlin for the door, but Merlin's grip tightened on the wheel.

"I'm walking," he said with determination.

"Merlin—," Arthur tried to argue, but Merlin was already standing up. His knees wobbled slightly, but he stood tall.

"I'm too young for a wheelchair. I'll use one when we're old and gray," he joked with a pushed smile in Arthur's direction.

Arthur didn't smile back, not at the reminder that growing old and dying was suddenly a reality for Merlin. He couldn't imagine the world without Merlin in it. Still, that was, with any luck, decades away, which was better than Merlin being dead already. He tried not to feel too guilty.

"Come on," Merlin said, realizing his joke hadn't gone over so well. "Where'd you put her?"

Arthur led Merlin to the main building, to the glass cells that they'd been kept in for months. He thought it was best to stay on the observation side of the room, but Merlin insisted they go into the cell to face Woo.

She was on Arthur's side, pacing along the broken shards of glass that Merlin had left in the center of the room upon their escape. She turned to the door when it opened, her fingers clutching her waist tighter than before when she saw her visitors.

"You look terrible," she told Merlin callously after he'd paced a little further into the room, still keeping some distance between them. Arthur stayed close to the door and ensured to shut it behind him.

He took in Woo's state. She looked relatively well for a prisoner, but the loose strand of hair that fell from her tight bun and the wrinkles in her usually immaculate skirt made her seem tired and defeated. She had worry lines creasing her brow and her bright red lipstick had faded to dull.

"I had to do a lot of work to undo your damage," Merlin told her in ways of an excuse, earning him a very severe look. He amended, "Our damage."

"And what happens now?" Woo asked in a mocking tone. "Now that we're exposed?" She scoffed, amused. "They're going to shut us down? Arrest me? They'll come after you, too."

"No, they won't," Arthur responded before Merlin could. "We were never here. Toby ensured any record of us was erased, even that." He nodded vaguely towards the CCTV camera perched in the corner of the room, its recording light dead and its cold eye unseeing. Woo followed the gesture towards the camera and scowled at it.

"Then, I'll tell them!" she insisted. "I'll tell them who you are—both of you."

"No one will believe you," said Merlin, almost sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, Eliza. It's done."

Arthur almost felt sorry, too. Her eyes were welling up, but he couldn't tell whether or not those were angry tears. Woo shook her head with force, unaccepting of her fate. "They will not lock me up for trying to save people," she maintained, and all pity Arthur had for her faded.

"Save them?" He sneered at her. "Tell that to the bodies of those still left in the morgue. You knew what you were doing all this time; the least you can do is admit to it."

"No," she answered harshly, her eyes on Merlin, "apparently I did not know what we were doing here." She stepped closer to Merlin. He didn't move, but Arthur tensed at the ready. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. However, she didn't make any move to lay hands on Merlin. "Enjoy your life together," she whispered to him, "knowing you've ruined mine and countless others. You got what you wanted. I wish I could take it away from you."

She stepped back and locked eyes with Arthur. She didn't stop looking at him, even when Merlin hung his head and started back towards Arthur. There was something calculating in her eyes, like she wasn't actually seeing Arthur at all.

The gaze unnerved him, made his skin crawl. He concentrated on the comforting weight of his sword in his fist. He tried to hold his own, but his eyes flickered away and landed on the mattress. There was something he needed before they left.

"Are you coming?" Merlin asked when he walked past Arthur.

"Hang on," he responded. He went for the mattress and knelt down next to it, feeling beneath it until his fingers connected with a stack of papers. He pulled out the postcards Merlin had collected over the years and straightened up.

Merlin had been watching him with curiosity until he saw what Arthur was holding. His expression turned soft as Arthur crossed the room again. He stopped briefly in front of Woo, holding her stare.

"Watch out for him," Woo warned coldly, pointing her chin at Merlin over Arthur's shoulder. "He'll rip you to shreds."

Arthur turned away. He had nothing to say to her. Across the room, Merlin turned to open the door.

"But not if I tear you apart first," Woo added quickly, a fire in her tone.

Arthur's heart froze. He registered Merlin whipping around quickly, holding up his palm, just before Arthur spun around, too. Woo had slipped a large, pointed shard of glass out of her sleeve and was rushing towards Arthur.

Merlin shouted Arthur's name. Woo brought the shard downward.

Reflexively, Arthur thrust his sword forward. Woo gasped as the tip of the blade ripped through her gut, and the shard fell out of her bloodied palm.

There was a moment, always the same, just before Arthur withdrew his sword. It was a look in the eyes, who's light had not yet faded. It was disbelief. It was knowing. And then, usually, it was acceptance. Arthur knew the look well. Woo's eyes never registered acceptance.

She fell the floor, hacking and sputtering. Merlin somehow appeared kneeling at her side, holding his hands out uselessly.

"Eliza?" he was calling as her breaths became shallower. The helplessness in his voice rattled through Arthur like a chill.

Woo glanced up at Merlin with bloodshot eyes. "Do you regret what we've done?" she wheezed.

Merlin was motionless for a moment. He nodded quickly, sincerely, guiltily.

Her red lips, make-up mixed with blood, curved into a smirk. "Good," she whispered. "Then I hope you live forever."

Her eyes went still.

Neither Arthur nor Merlin moved for a few beats. Arthur tried to imagine the look on Merlin's face. He'd seen Merlin cry over deaths before—Lancelot's, Balinor's, and even Arthur's own. He wondered if Merlin would cry now, hot and wet tears, or if his face would be expressionless as it had been of late. Arthur didn't know which he hoped for.

He placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder and gave it a squeeze of support. Merlin was shaking only slightly and, when Arthur leaned forward to inspect Merlin's profile, he noticed his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

Then, Merlin blinked a few times and his muscles tensed. When looked up at Arthur, his eyes weren't blank—not quite. It was a start.

Not long after, the authorities swarmed the base. They searched Eleazar in its entirety and rounded up staff and patients alike for questioning. Arthur was asked to give an account, too, but he kept it as vague and innocent as possible. He needed to appear to be a normal patient. He needed to go home.

Some of the doctors were taken into custody while others were asked to stay behind for more questioning. Finally, people were loaded into cars and vans and taken away from Eleazar.

The sun had set over the lawn outside the community center long ago, but it was hardly dark. Bright white floodlights and headlights lit up the area, which buzzed with movement and chatter. Behind him, one voice rose above the others.

"Hullo," it said. Arthur smiled at the warmth in it, and he turned to greet Beatrice. Her own smile was triumphant.

"Hello."

"Now, I don't wantcha to worry," she said, stepping closer to him. "I kept my mouth shut about everything I knew. Didn't say a word."

"That must have been hard for you," Arthur joked, making her giggle. He looked over her shoulder at one of the vans that was being loaded with patients. "What now? I assume you're headed back to Wales."

"Yeah, for now," she said with a nod. "I'll be back in England soon, though. Gonna meet up with Toby."

Arthur quirked an amused brow. "Yeah?"

She hummed. "Well, we did bring down an evil organization together," she said in a mock-dramatic tone. "Figure that's worth a drink, at least." She slapped Arthur's bicep playfully. "We'll invite you along next time, yeah? I mean—," she suddenly looked horrified. "If you want. I'm not saying you want to keep in touch, but if you'd like to. I don't see why—"

"I'll look forward to it," he said, stopping her before she hurt herself. She seemed relieved.

"Alright, then," she agreed, an air of finality in her tone. "I'll be off. I'll see ya later, Arthur—whatever you're called."

They shared a tight embrace before she skipped off with a happy wave over her shoulder. He waved back until she disappeared into the crowd.

He scanned for Merlin, and spotted him against the community center, standing in the peripherals of a circle of light. Arthur went for him.

"Ready?" Merlin asked, standing up from his lean on the wall.

"To get out of here?" Arthur shot back like it was obvious.

"Come this way," Merlin instructed, nodding away from the crowd. "No one's over there. We should be able to get to the fence unnoticed."

They started in that direction after Arthur collected his sword from its hiding spot in the bushes along the wall. They'd left Toby's car about mile from the base. They would return it in a few days, but that night Arthur had a hot shower back in Glastonbury with his name on it.

After they slipped through the hole in the fence that Merlin had made upon their arrival that day, they walked in silence for a few minutes. The only sounds Arthur heard were the chirping of insects and distant tires on gravel roads.

He broke the quiet by teasing, "Do us all a favor next time, will you? Don't write any more stories."

Merlin looked down at his feet, but Arthur saw him smiling in the moonlight. "Oh, come on, Arthur! This one would get more recognition than the tale of how you found Excalibur," he joked, or at least Arthur chose to believe he was joking.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Merlin."