A/N: Happy holidays, everyone. I hope you have all had an enjoyable time catching up with family/friends as you are able and that you are all staying safe.

This particular chapter had no less than six different versions. Not different edits, six entirely different 2,000-3,000 word scenes that I went back and forth between like a ping pong ball before deciding we needed a low-action option and using the original. Hopefully the rest of that stuff will be worked in somewhere else, or it's just 10,000 words or so of change that can sit in the drafts portion and stare at me accusingly as it never sees the light of day.

I also just want to give everyone a heads up that I am on vacation for the next few weeks. That will either mean I get extra chapters done in my newfound free time, or I will be swallowed by the void that is catching up on everything you can't do when working and there will be no writing done at all. Just in case I disappear off the planet for a few weeks. ;-)

Chapter 8

And After the Apocalypse, it's Nap Time

Douxie awoke and immediately regretted doing so. He had apparently offended every single muscle in his body before tumbling into bed the night before, and there was not an inch of him that did not hurt with a vengeance. He hadn't felt this terrible since… well, the last time he died, he supposed, which was really not something one should be making a habit out of. At least he'd found somewhere decent to sleep. If he hurt this much after lying on a soft mattress all night, he could only imagine how painful today would have been with a couch spring or three digging into his back.

"Douxie?" A careful weight settled on his stomach. "Are you awake?"

"No." He croaked and winced. Even his throat was sore. "That seems like a terrible idea right now."

Archie chuckled softly, settling more firmly into place. "At least your sense of humour is intact."

"I wasn't joking." Squinting his eyes open, he glared half-heartedly into Archie's inescapable gaze. There was something there that made him pause, the intimate knowledge of centuries spent together, and he swallowed painfully before asking. "How long?"

"About a day," the dragon's response was subdued, thick with concern. "You've been drifting in and out. I think you had the old man worried."

For a terrifying moment, that sentence was entirely incomprehensible to the young wizard. The memories reasserted themselves with a vengeance before he could blankly ask his familiar what he was talking about, and he felt his blood run cold as his hand crept unwittingly to rest against his chest, breath escaping him in a soft 'oh'.

"How do you feel?" Archie moved his paws to rest atop his wizard's hand. "Any pain at all?"

"No, I..." His body hurt, yes, like he'd gone three rounds with the enchanted broom and then tripped down the stairs. That wasn't what Archie meant, though. "I'm alright. A little shaky maybe, but then I guess I haven't eaten, so—"

"Please, don't." He stopped abruptly at hearing the reproach in those words, Archie's round eyes looking at him with a wounded expression. "Don't make light. You scared me, Douxie. I didn't know what was happening or how to help."

"I'm sorry." An apology probably wasn't what Archie was looking for. The words were habitual enough he said them anyway, reaching to lay both hands against the dragon's back in way of comfort. "I really am alright, though, I promise.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Master!" In retrospect, sitting bolt upright in response to Merlin's entrance into the room probably wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done. Not the stupidest, either, but it definitely ranked up there. "Oooh, buckets."

Hands, not paws, grabbed a hold of him before he could join the room in its wild spinning, and he spent a good few seconds being absurdly grateful he hadn't eaten anything. He very much doubted Merlin would have appreciated his stomach's reaction to the movement otherwise.

"Careful, Hisirdoux!" the Master Wizard admonished, easing him back to rest against the wall in a semi-upright position. Archie had taken the opportunity to stack pillows behind him, and settled in his lap again as soon as he was stable. Merlin's hands lingered a little longer than they needed to, the fleeting touch of gentle magic preceding his withdrawal.

"You never do things the easy way, do you?" He turned away before Douxie could figure out whether he was supposed to be apologising for the trouble, returning almost immediately with a chalice that was pressed firmly into his unsteady hands. "Sip this. Slowly. We'll talk when you're done."

For once, it seemed easier to simply do as he was told. Under Archie's watchful eye, he took a mouthful of the cup's contents, realising as soon as it passed his lips that it was more than just water. There was a sweet aftertaste, followed almost at once by the easing of the more immediate aches and pains. Unable to hold back a sigh of relief, he settled a little further into the pillows, finishing the rest of the potion whilst watching his master rifle through the various tomes spread across his desk.

The Master Wizard was mumbling discontentedly to himself, a sure sign of his agitation. Cringing inwardly at the thought of the lecture that was surely brewing, he was almost tempted to pretend he was still drinking. Unfortunately, Merlin's gaze landed on him again as soon as he'd taken the last sip, his master bustling back to the bedside to loom in judgement.

Archie must have felt him tensing, for he glanced up at Merlin in irritation. "Must you?"

Rolling his eyes, Merlin liberated the empty cup from Douxie's lax fingers, setting it aside before pulling up a chair that made his presence a little less intimidating. Douxie caught himself fidgeting with his empty hands, a bad habit he really should have broken after all this time, and swiftly moved to stroke Archie's back instead.

"So…" Best to get it over and done with. This wasn't the Merlin who had learned to trust him, for better or for worse. "How much trouble am I in, then?"

"Trouble?" Merlin gave him an incredulous look. "You just spent two days on your deathbed, and another completely unresponsive as your own magic tried to piece you back together. Given the circumstances, I hardly think a lecture from me is going to help."

"It might." He probably shouldn't have said that. Too late to take it back now. "You never know."

"I will keep that in mind." The words were so dry you could have used them as tinder. "How are you feeling? And don't spin me the same story you just did your dragon friend. It may have been nine hundred years for you, but you are still as terrible a liar as you ever were."

"Yes, well, some people might consider that a good thing."

"Hisirdoux."

He hadn't realised until now how much he had missed his old master. They had had their disagreements, polarising views that had only grown worse after Merlin's slumber and all those years on his own to fend for himself. The old wizard was still the closest thing he had to a father, and his absence had been felt in every successive catastrophe that had followed his death.

"I feel like I let you down." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he didn't really have any choice from there but to continue. "You trusted me to protect Nari, but she's the one who ended up saving me. I don't even know if the rest of my friends made it out alive. Skrael and Bellroc have probably already opened the Seals in the future, and by the time I figure out how to get back there everyone I know will already be gone."

"Hmm." That was all he got for a long moment, which was neither particularly helpful nor reassuring. "Given up already, have you?"

"What? No! I mean, of course I want to fix it, I just don't see how."

"Good." Merlin nodded as though a decision had been reached. "Once we have exhausted all possible avenues of action and find we cannot undo this calamity of yours, then, and only then, will we talk about your failures. For now, I suggest you focus on regaining your strength."

"Really?" Zoe would have slapped him upside the head if she'd found him fishing for criticism, but he was finding it hard to believe Merlin had nothing to say on the matter. Merlin always had something to say. "That's it?"

"Hisirdoux..." Merlin sighed, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. It dawned on his apprentice that the Master Wizard actually looked tired. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen that before, battles with Morgana and centuries of slumber notwithstanding. Before he could open his mouth to express his concern, Merlin had reached out in a rare display to lay a hand on his shoulder. "What has happened has happened. After what you went through to end up here, I hardly think there is anything I can add that you haven't already figured out for yourself. The important thing is to decide what we are going to do next. For that, we need to get you back on your feet."

The urge was there to close the distance between them. It had been a terrible last few days, on top of a terrible last few months, and the worn down, exhausted part of him just wanted to reclaim the comfort of that brief embrace they had shared whilst lingering on the edge of the afterlife. But this wasn't that Merlin; No matter how much Douxie might have wished otherwise, his master was gone. He was just borrowing the body and the life of his younger self, ruining his own childhood in new and exciting ways. He really hoped he didn't remember any of this later. At the rate he was going, he'd be lucky if he wasn't a raving lunatic by the time he made it back to the future.

"Alright." Realising Merlin was still awaiting a verbal response, he stuffed that urge and the distracting lump in his throat back down as far as they would go. "What's the plan, then?"

"Rest." Merlin squeezed his shoulder before moving his hand away. "Recover. The damage the Arcane Order caused has been halted in its tracks for now, but the cracks remain. You will need to be careful not to overexert yourself, and extremely cautious in how you use your magic. Morgana has already managed one miracle; I will not risk needing another."

"Where is Morgana?" He was almost afraid to ask. In hindsight, telling the pair of them as much as he had about the future was probably not the wisest thing he could have done in his situation. He was humble enough to admit that. At the time — shock thrumming through his veins and fresh from the adrenaline of being torn apart and put back together — he hadn't really been in a good frame of mind for rational decision making. That was no excuse for dropping the sorceress in the deep end, though. Not when he knew how Merlin could be. "I owe her a 'thank you' for saving my life."

"She has not been cast into the dungeon, if that is what you are afraid of." Merlin gave him a knowing look. "Seeing the future is a dangerous business, and anyone who acts on that knowledge without proper forethought is a fool. I will admit you caught me off guard — the time map has never so much as hinted at Morgana's fate — but she has nothing to fear from me until she chooses to make herself a threat."

"Good." It was a weight off his shoulders, if only one of the smallest burdens resting there. "Because I have a feeling we are going to need her help."

"As do I," Merlin agreed. "We will discuss it further when I return. I have a meeting with Arthur I have already delayed too long. The servants will bring you up something to eat in a little while. Do not leave the tower without either myself or Morgana accompanying you. Do you understand?"

"But, Master—"

"Don't, Hisirdoux." It was not the customary response, stern and reinforced by the expression on the elder wizard's face. He flinched slightly in spite of himself; Merlin was not yet done. "Arthur is still furious over what happened. It is best you stay well out of sight until things have calmed down. We also have no way of knowing if any of the Arcane Order accompanied you on your little trip through time. If that conglomeration of magic sent you back, they might have followed, and they will be hunting you. Stay in the tower. That is an order."

He didn't wait for an acknowledgement before making his exit, closing the door firmly behind him and plunging the room into a brief silence.

Archie broke it with a sigh. "I suspect he didn't mean that to sound quite as angry as it did. You gave us all a fright."

"I know. I'm sorry." At least Archie had never minded being used as a living, breathing teddy bear. He let himself indulge in that weakness for a moment, closing his eyes as he held the familiar as tightly as was comfortable for them both. "I don't know how you put up with me."

He was expecting the usual, quick response. What he got instead was a subdued, "Douxie…"

Surprised, he opened his eyes to meet his familiar's gaze. He knew that look, and he wasn't standing for it. "It wasn't your fault, Arch."

"I saw what happened." Archie shook his head. "You were holding your own until I went and got careless. I'm your familiar, I'm supposed to help you, not nearly get you killed."

"We're supposed to help each other, Arch. If that's the way we're measuring it, I let you down first."

"Douxie—"

"No. It wasn't your fault. You're not allowed to think that it is."

The dragon huffed at him, not looking wholly convinced, but at least a little less guilty. That transformed into alarm a moment later when Douxie started peeling back the blanket.

"What are you doing?"

Freezing halfway through the motion, he blinked at his familiar. "Um... Getting out of bed?"

"Merlin said—"

"Not to leave the tower. And I'm not. I just want to get up."

"The last time you did that you destroyed Merlin's stock of potions," Archie moved aside to let him rise, but not without comment. "And the time before you nearly cracked your skull open whilst rearranging all the furniture in our room."

He touched his head on instinct, frowning when his fingers brushed against the healing lump there. He had been hoping Archie was exaggerating. "Extenuating circumstances?"

"Such as your soul being scattered across time?" Archie dropped to the floor as Douxie sat up on his own, watching him warily as he rested a hand against the bedpost and eased himself slowly to his feet. "I suppose I can allow it. You're going to have to come up with a better excuse than that for all the other messes you caused, though."

"Fuzzbuckets. What else did I do?" His legs were slightly wobbly, but they held. He transferred his hand from the bed to the wall before cautiously taking a step, Archie shadowing him.

"I'm not sure you really want to know."

He managed another three steps without falling on his face, though it was taking more effort than he felt it should. "That sounds bad."

"Somewhat." Satisfied he was steady enough to remain upright, Archie took to the air so he could open the door into the workshop, saving Douxie the effort of juggling himself and the latch. "At least you didn't accidentally turn anyone into a toad, I suppose."

Belatedly catching on to the teasing note in his familiar's voice, Douxie cast the smug dragon a dark glare. "You're an ass, Arch."

Archie chuckled quietly, and Douxie finished his unsteady march across the bedchamber in silence, slipping into the workshop and sitting on the nearest pile of books he could find.

"I told you you should have stayed in bed," Archie grumbled, settling at his feet. "It's not like we have anywhere we need to be."

That was true, technically. He just couldn't shake the feeling that sitting still was a mistake. That he should be doing something, anything besides lazing about his master's quarters all day. Unfortunately, Merlin wasn't likely to set him loose when he couldn't even make it across a room without feeling like he needed another nap, so whatever it was would have to wait for now.

Glancing about the workshop in an effort to look more alert than he really was, he froze as he caught sight of the worn lute propped in the corner. Archie followed his gaze, not needing an uttered word to dart across the room and retrieve it for him. His voice only wobbled slightly as he thanked his familiar, waiting for Archie to shift forms and settle into place on his lap before positioning the instrument and letting his fingers wander across the strings.

He was a little rusty; It was a long time since he'd owned a lute, more familiar now with the instruments of the 21st Century than the 12th, but the weight was comforting nonetheless, and it only took a few minutes for his fingers to remember the old patterns. The melody filled the otherwise quiet space of Merlin's workshop, Archie adding a gentle rumble to what was a softer tune than he would normally have chosen. It seemed right for this moment; A much needed chance to pause and regain his breath before diving back into the fray.