Hello everyone, It's time for some serious whump. I really hope you like it.

WARNING: same warnings from the previous chapter, it's more intense in this one. (Seriously, it gets brutal)

….

Previously:

"C'mon, we need to get out of here. More of them could be coming." The boy nodded as they began to walk back from where they had come.

That's when Merlin smelled something, something that wasn't supposed to be there.

…

Merlin couldn't identify it at first, or why did it make him anxious. They were silently moving back to the safe part, ears pricked up for any sign of danger but everywhere seemed oddly quiet. The sense of wrongness still present as the strange smell got stronger.

Then he figured out.

Grabbing Daegal by his arm, he started running in full speed. They would be burned to bone if they stayed there any longer. He knew this because he finally identified the smell.

Burned garlic.

Daegal seemed to have come to the same conclusion for he dropped the rifle and started following Merlin as fast as he could, they had to get away from that area and warn the others as well before it was too late. Apparently, the German army hadn't been as unprepared as they had believed.

The sound of something exploding behind them confirmed their suspicions. They increased their speed _if possible_, running faster than they had ever run in their lives. The explosion sounds following them closely.

Merlin knew they couldn't get away unscratched. They would have at least some minor burns in the luckiest case, but in order to at least get away with their lives, he had to act quickly.

He scanned the ground as they ran, desperately looking for the only thing that could prevent their death. He was losing hope when his eyes finally fell on the gadget.

A mask.

It was on the face of a fallen soldier on the ground, they couldn't stop in order to pick it up but grabbing it while running didn't seem like a possible option. Merlin didn't know he had such ability but when you're escaping for your life, you really don't need to be able to do things, you just do them.

So a moment later he had it in his hands, it seemed quite intact, which was a relief. The gas bombs were still following them like a shadow as he quickly threw the mask to Daegal. The boy looked back at him with panic in his eyes and shook his head.

"WEAR IT, NOW" Merlin bellowed. He knew the reason for the boy's hesitation but there really was no other option.

"BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU?"

And this was it. He stopped for a second and reached Daegal, took the mask from his hands and _quite violently_ forced it on the boy's head. This caused them to fall back a bit.

What a mistake.

Something exploded about thirty feet behind them and immediately a cloud of green followed the noise, like a milky demon heading for its prey.

Daegal froze, seeing the death itself creeping towards him. But having years of experience as a doctor, Merlin acted automatically, grabbing Daegal's arm like he had a minute ago and forcing him to continue running, then a second explosion happened.

This one was different though, it didn't sound like a loud puff like the gas bombs.

It also wasn't feet away.

Knowing what was about to happen, Merlin still couldn't act fast enough.

And he blamed himself for it for the rest of his life.

A strong wave blew them wildly into the air and smashed them hard to the trench walls. Merlin didn't hear the loud sound of it, he didn't hear the cry that tore Daegal's throat as shrapnel flew over them, embedding themselves in the two men's bodies; he didn't feel the pain on his side nor the warm liquid starting to flow on his uniform. His fuzzy mind was computing to make sense of the situation.

'Oh, a landmine' he decided.

Even in that position he couldn't stop himself from snorting bitterly, could the odds be in their favor for once? Apparently not. In that specific moment, Merlin was pretty sure they were the unluckiest creatures in the world.

I mean, stepping on a landmine while escaping from gas bombs? What are the odds?

The pain drew him out of his thoughts and brought him back to present time. Remembering Daegal, he frantically looked around to catch a sign of his young comrade, though his blurry vision and dizzy head weren't making it an easy task, not to mention his ringing ears, but a few moments later he found his target.

The sight made his heart drop.

Daegal was thrown to the other side of the trench like a rag doll, his uniform bloody and his breath coming as short gasps. It alone was a horrible scene to watch but there was another special feature that Merlin never succeeded in removing it from his memories.

The boy's feet.

Merlin knew it was Daegal who had stepped on the mine. He had seen so many similar soldiers in the infirmary and had tended to them without showing a single sign of discomfort, but nothing could prepare him for what he was standing witness to now.

The feet of his young companion, the shy boy who had quickly found a place in everyone's heart, the brave soldier who had just saved both of their lives from an angry German by three simple sentences.

They just weren't…there.

Merlin tried to swallow the bile that was rising in his throat and crawled to where Daegal was lying, quickly pulled out two strings from the bags attached to his belt and tied the young boy's legs tightly.

Or what was left from the lad's legs anyway.

In the place where supposed to be his feet and calf, were now nothing more than bleeding shreds of flesh mixed with shards of bone. The boy had lost his both legs.

But this didn't mean he was going to die, Merlin reminded himself. He had seen other soldiers that were brought with same conditions and were treated and had recovered, there was no reason why the same couldn't happen to Daegal. His hopeful mind tried to ignore the deep wounds on the boy's stomach.

The doctor inside him sprang into action. He could deal with the legs later but for now he had to make sure the boy didn't bleed to death.

Tightening the strings over Daegal's thighs drew a pained cry from the boy, which Merlin didn't hear, his ears were still ringing. After securing the legs, he finally noticed _or stopped ignoring_ the gashes that were decorating the boy's front and started pressing on them, not caring about how his patient winced from the touch.

He raised his head to meet Daegal's eyes for the first time after the explosion. They were filled with pain and tears were visible even behind the mask.

'Oh, the mask!' he remembered.

That's right, they were running from another big monster before the mine had exploded, a threat which was still very much present, slowly creeping towards them, mocking their uselessness. There was no way they could escape from it now, all they could wish was for the gas concentration to be low enough that wouldn't burn them to death even before they breathed it.

In this rare occasion they seemed to be in luck, for the last bombs were the ones thirty feet away from them and the wind was working in their favor, blowing in the opposite direction and reducing the gas' speed and density. Finally it seemed the world was showing them its kind side, maybe it meant they could live through this situation as well…?

Now all Merlin could do as to stay there, press his hands on Daegal's chest and hold his breath, since he didn't have a mask like the other boy. He couldn't leave, not just because of the fact that he hadn't gotten away from the explosion unscratched and had a concerning gash on his side and over his torso and couldn't get far enough even if he did escape, but because he had been given a responsibility.

"He is safer with you, so take him for his sake if you don't care about yours"

Arthur's voice were echoing in his head. He couldn't leave Daegal alone, he was supposed to keep that boy safe and had failed miserably, now he wouldn't abandon him to save his own neck.

He looked up straight into his injured friend's eyes once more, trying to smile reassuringly as he started to feel a stinging sensation on his skin. The gas had finally reached and had started to slowly peel them. It felt like to be playing with its food.

Apparently the boy had felt its effects too, for his eyes widened as he stared at Merlin with fear visible in his features. Immediately the boy raised his hands to his mask, feebly trying to get it off his head.

Merlin's hands quickly shot up to grab his. Lowering them from his face and continuing to press on the boy's torso, not releasing the boy's wrists. He shook his head, looking determinedly at Daegal, trying to convey a massage.

Daegal's eyes filled with tears as Merlin smiled again. He was going to save the boy, even if the cost was his own life.

Merlin's vision blurred as the spicy substance in the air became thicker around them, he knew what was coming. The vaporized devil was being absorbed to the moist in his eyes and was eating them slowly and painfully. He closed them to protect his sight but deep down knew he was only delaying the inevitable.

With his eyes closed, he didn't see as agony etched in his patient's face, but felt as the bleeding slowed down. This wasn't good, he wasn't even pressing on all of the wounds so he couldn't have been the reason for the sudden lack of bleeding.

He shook his head hard as if trying to clear his head from the portentous thought that crossed his mind for a second, he wasn't going to lose Daegal. He wouldn't. How could he face Arthur if he lost the kid? How could he face his own conscious?

Slowly, he felt the boy's hand shakily move under his grasp and pat his hand affectionately. He shook his head harder. If he hadn't hold his breath to avoid breathing the gas he would have shouted at the young boy, telling him not to lose hope, that he didn't have the right to give up, but all he could do now was to shake his head and press harder.

Daegal didn't even flinch as Merlin increased the pressure on his wounds to the level that it practically forced the breath out of his lungs. He kept rubbing his thumb on the man's hand, hoping that when he was gone, Merlin would take the mask from his face and save himself. He was far too exhausted to fight with the young medic and take it off himself.

As their skins slowly burned, Merlin felt everything to slow down under his hands, the caresses, the struggling, the flinching…

The breathing…the beating…

Tears fell from his damaged lids, burning his cheeks as they mixed with the sulfur in the air. He couldn't lose Daegal, he refused to. If only he could keep his life force in his body by pressing on the wound.

The situation bitterly reminded him of the German boy, somehow he couldn't offer the same comfort he had back then. He couldn't accept Daegal's death as easily. He hadn't injected morphine because Daegal wasn't going to die, he was going to survive, if only he could hold on till the others found them.

Arthur was surely looking for them, he would find them and would save Daegal. The boy would receive a medal for his bravery and would be sent home for the extent of his injuries.

Everything was going to be fine, if only he could hold on a bit longer.

Minutes passed, Merlin's hand were numb. His side was bleeding and his lungs were screaming for air. With eyes shut and ears ringing, the only sense he could rely on was Daegal's hand brushing on his. Then it ceased.

There was stillness. The time itself seemed to have stopped. There was no wind to brush his face, no crackling sound of fire, not even the gas was hurting him anymore.

All of a sudden the whole world was silent for the young boy.

Merlin was frozen, he couldn't have breathed even if there was no gas. He expected himself to scream, to mourn, to cry, to deny.

To do something.

As the affect of adrenaline in his veins finally wearing off, he felt his strength leaving him. Slowly, his hands left Daegal's chest, though no blood was leaving the gashes now. Feeling broken, he slumped to the ground beside the boy.

His eyelids were so burned that were stitched together. Deep in the darkness, he could finally feel the agonizing pain that was throbbing through his body. His head felt like it was splitting open.

His thoughts were drawn back to his young comrade lying still beside him. It was too late to change anything. All he could do now was to lie there, remember all the memories they had, and feel his heart shatter into pieces.

The boy had a mother _he remembered_ but no other family aside from that. The kind woman had once sent her son some homemade cookies, which had been destroyed in humid weather even before reaching its receiver, but hadn't stopped the hungry soldiers from devouring the crumbs.

He remembered how joyful they had been that night, how bright their faces had been shining. And now…

Now she had to receive the letter informing her of her son's fate.

Merlin wanted to take Daegal back to the camp, he felt it would lessen his guilt if he did so. The picture of rats feasting on the body of someone he once considered his younger brother was beyond sickening, it was tearing Merlin apart.

Though he now knew he wouldn't end up any differently himself. He feel the hot blood leaving his body and mixing with the killing gas in the air, creating a faint acid that was burning him even more.

What difference would it make to pick the mask from Daegal's face?

Deep down he wanted the young boy's face to look fine when _no, if_ the rest of the battalion found him, maybe they would take the corpse and save it from the vicious animals. Maybe they would recognize Merlin's body for being the only one with Daegal, since he had long lost hope to be recognized through his face.

The pain was unbearable.

Maybe part of the pain was for the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain. After all, he couldn't recall the last breath he had taken, his mind was too far gone for that, but he knew if he breathed now, without a mask, it wouldn't be air that would enter his body,

It would be death.

And a slow and painful one in that.

If he was going to die anyway, he preferred it to be painless, instantaneous. Not from scar tissues in his lungs that would torture him for years before killing him. The shrapnel on his side would probably do the job in a few minutes, so he kept his mouth shut and nose pinched.

Death was creeping slowly, like someone wanting to get close to a crying child without scaring him further, saying soothing words and offering candy.

His bleeding was slowing down just like Daegal's had a few minutes ago. He could almost smile, he wouldn't need to live with the guilt of his friend's death any longer. Merlin would join him in any minute. He found himself thinking about his good memories one last time, slowly walking out his hiding place and accepting the black hands of death like an old friend.

He remembered every time he had helped Gaius to gather plants and make herbal medicine. He remembered his uncle's stories of dragons and sorcerers that would cease his boredom each time he was sick and was forced to stay in bed. Even these past few years that he rarely met the old man, each visit would still raise his spirit.

Mordred was now a seventeen year old youth, getting taller every day and starting to become a responsible son for his family _according to Hunith's letters_. Would he hold his tears and stay strong? Would he protect Freya when her cruel husband left her forever?

Freya…

Even with the condition of his eyes, he could still feel hot tears sting the back of his lids. The small photo of his loving Freya was in his uniform's pocket, right above his heart, were she would always be. He recalled the details of the black and white image, Freya sitting gracefully on a wooden stool, wearing her best dress and a lace scarf over her shoulders, the very scarf Merlin had bought for her birthday only a year ago, when life was easier. Silly how time flies.

And in her arms slept little Eira. Daddy's little treasure. A treasure he wouldn't live to see with his own eyes, to hold in his arms, to kiss her little hands. He had imagined himself doing it for countless times and now he knew it was never going to happen.

Guilt beyond measure clutched at his heart, squeezing it so hard as if to stop its beating. It would be a relief though, right now death seemed more appealing than recalling all the painful things he once cherished.

Would she forgive him? Would she forgive Merlin for not being the father she deserved? Or would she hate him for not being by her side when she needed him the most? Merlin couldn't decide which one would be worse, to be hated or to be completely forgotten by his little girl.

And he wouldn't get to see her grow, he wouldn't get to see her when she bloomed into a wonderful woman like her mother _which he was sure she would_. He wouldn't get to see her as she finds her place in this world, like Merlin had, when he chose to be a doctor.

Could it be any more painful? The gas would've condemned him to suffocate in his own blood but what was happening now was strangling him in his own mind. He wondered how long had he been lying on that damp soil, hours? Days? But he knew it hadn't been more than a few minutes since his heart was still beating despite the lack of breath, though slower. In his pained mind he wondered, when would it end?

As if reaching the last screen, his thoughts were brought back to Arthur.

Somewhere, less than a mile apart from his dying brother, Arthur was still fighting.

Merlin heart lightened up a bit. He always selfishly prayed to be the first one that would go between the two of them, and now his prayers were being answered. But the relief had a short life for guilt and concern devoured him once again.

What would happen to Arthur when he's gone? Would he give up? Would he blame himself for his death? It was true that he had sent him there because he thought it would be safer and it seemed they all had been terribly wrong, but it was all Merlin's decision from the start. Would he blame himself for being the main reason that made him volunteer? No, he couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let his family suffer because of him even after he's dead.

Arthur, it's not your fault, it's not your fault…

His mind kept chanting but the darkness shadowed his thoughts as he finally welcomed the land of oblivion.

…

This was longer than I usually right as one chapter, but I didn't want to split it in half.

I can't even begin to express how GRATEFUL I am, the responds to the prev chapter were HUGE. The reviews were DOUBLED overnight. Thank you all *virtual hug*

Dear 'Mayastd': it's an honor that you followed the story. I'm really sorry (and also proud) that it made you cry, also thank you sooo much for your kind words.

Dear Guest: I'm so happy you liked it, did you like this chapter as well? :D

Dear 'The otter reader': Thanks, it always hurt to see Morgana and Mordred turn from sweet and loyal to heartless and evil in the show, I always thought how amazing could it be if they stayed good guys. And yes, I agree, it's more than sad, even the small research I had to do about the actual effects of mustard gas had me crying, and I never cry. Also thank you for your amazing reviews :D