Hello! I am back with another chapter! Thank you to all those who reviewed and motivated me to update.

TBH, this chapter has been re-written (as in, completely re-done, with different plot and characters and dialogues) two or three times now. I don't know, I was just dealing with some serious writer's block. Still am, but I think I need to keep moving forward.

So I hope you enjoy this chapter!

~Ra1n

Previously...

Arthur didn't know the answers to any of these questions, and he didn't see anybody being forthcoming with answers in the near future. So he sat there, and he waited. He waited for someone to tell him what was going on. He waited for Morgana to attack. He waited for Merlin to heal. He waited for the the walls to crumble around him. Waited for the world to turn upside down. For anything other than staring at nothing and thinking.

He only had to wait another fifteen minutes before the world gave him exactly what he was waiting for.

Gwen walked in.

Without Gaius, without prompting, without a poultice or herbs or a draught or a bucket of water.

She just… walked in. And looked right at Arthur.

Arthur stared.

It was the middle of the night; there was no reason for Gwen to be standing a few feet from Arthur's bed and looking at him, her eyes wide like a startled deer. Was she alright? Was Merlin alright? She looked exhausted. Her eyes were red and puffy, her shoulders rigid. Was she coming to get Gaius? Arthur had heard no moaning, no shouts or cries or whimpers. It didn't seem like Merlin needed a pain draught…

Gwen straightened her spine, her eyes still fixed on Arthur. Her hands curled into fists, slowly, and then released. She seemed to have made up her mind about something, because she shook her head a little before taking a step towards Arthur.

Arthur's mouth went dry. Gwen looked at the foot of Arthur's cot. Stiffly, she motioned to it.

"May I sit?" She asked, her voice tight.

Arthur nodded dumbly. Gwen perched herself on the base of the cot, being careful to avoid his injured feet. For a moment, she remained there, her hands clasped in her lap.

"How are you feeling?" She said at last, her conversational tone forced.

"...Fine?" Arthur couldn't imagine where this was going. And what kind of a question was that?

Gwen hummed. "I'm tired," she looked at Arthur. "It's been a long couple of days, hasn't it?"

"Yes," Arthur said, slowly, "it has."

There was a long stretch of silence.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Do—do you need something from me, Guinevere?"

Gwen frowned. "No," she took a deep breath. "I just thought," she hesitated, "I just thought that perhaps you needed to talk."

"Pardon?" This had to be a joke. When was the last time Gwen had spoken to him willingly? As of an hour ago, they had been on a strict silent-unless-absolutely-necessary communication pattern. What had changed?

"Please don't make me say it again, Arthur."

"I just don't understand."

She sighed. "Then nevermind," she moved to stand up, "it was a stupid idea."

"No, please," He sat up straighter. "I just don't know what to say."

Gwen laughed bitterly. "I don't think anybody knows what to say." Arthur could sense the anger behind those words. She might be talking to him now, but she still blamed him for everything. Arthur wondered how difficult it was for her to be talking to him right now, and what had prompted the exchange in the first place.

Arthur ran a hand over his face."How am I supposed to start? I'm sorry. I wish I could take everything back. I would do anything. But how am I supposed to tell Merlin those things? He won't look at me, and I don't even want him to look at me."

Gwen settled back down. "I think it's what you do that matters more," she said, "And I think you've already started doing what you need to do."

"It won't be enough."

"It's going to have to be." Her eyes were focused on something far away. "You're going to have to keep trying, and hoping, and maybe things won't be the same as they were, but-"

"But...?"

"But they'll get better, I think." She stood up. "Maybe not yet. But I think they will."

"I won't deserve it," his voice was soft.

"Perhaps not, but that's up to Merlin to decide, isn't it?"

Arthur was saved from answering by a low rumble in the floorboards. His heart jumped into his throat. His immediate thought was that they were being attacked early, and they were woefully underprepared.

He didn't have time to think of anything further before the whole room was filled with white smoke.

Blinking rapidly, there was a moment where Arthur was sure he was dreaming— there had been a wall next to him just a moment ago, hadn't there?—Before his brain caught up to his eyes and he understood what he was seeing.

The wall between Merlin's room and the main physician's quarters was gone.

Or, gone wasn't the right word— it was still there, only it was in pieces on the floor, crumbled to chalky dust. Bits of it were on Arthur's blanket and Gwen's hair. His ears were ringing.

Morgana.

Injuries and conversation momentarily forgotten, Arthur and Gwen leapt into action, sprinting into the area that used to be Merlin's room, coughing as the dust from the disintegrated wall filled their lungs. Arthur's eyes were watering.

"Merlin?!" He called, squinting into the wreckage.

The wall seemed to have collapsed straight down, because the exterior walls of Merlin's room were still intact; in fact, aside from the single wall between Arthur's bed and Merlin's, everything remained untouched, a fine layer of rock dust rapidly settling on all of the furniture.

"What happened?!" Gwen was looking around in shock. Arthur ignored her in favor of picking his way over the bits of rock, frantically searching for Merlin.

"There," Gwen said pointing.

He was difficult to spot, covered in the same white-gray powder as everything else, but there was no mistaking him. He was on his hands and knees a few feet from his bed, as if he'd scrambled away from the wall as soon as it had started crumbling. His bed was covered in bits of rock and wood.

To his credit, Merlin looked like he'd just been violently awoken from a deep sleep, kneeling on the floor, bewilderment and panic obvious on his face. And honesty, he probably had been. It was the middle of the night, after all.

Arthur couldn't quite wrap his mind around what he was seeing. Why would Morgana collapse a single wall, but leave Merlin untouched?

He didn't get an answer. The moment Merlin laid his eyes on the two of them, he seemed to come to life, snarling and clawing his way haphazardly towards the wall beneath the window of his room. He pushed his back up against it and fell still, gasping, anger in his shadowed eyes. He looked like a rabid dog, cornered and panting.

"I know," the warlock wheezed, in a voice a few notes lower than his usual register. His gaze darted from Arthur to Gwen. His face slipped from anger to grief. "I know all of it."

Gwen turned towards Arthur, the question he knows what? obvious in her eyes.

Behind him, Arthur heard the creak of steps.

Merlin's eyes flew to just above Arthur's right shoulder before falling on Arthur again.

"That's why you haven't killed me, isn't it?" His gaze went to the spot above Arthur's shoulder again. "Did all of you know?" He looked like he was going to cry. "Did- Gaius, did you know?"

The footsteps behind Arthur stopped, and the king turned to see Gaius there, an unreadable expression on his face. He looked just as startled by the state of the room as Arthur felt, but even more startled by Merlin's sudden change in demeanor.

"Merlin, my boy, are you alright? What happened here?"

Merlin growled. "Don't change the subject."

"I don't know what you're referring to." This looked like one of Merlin's feverish fits of paranoia and confusion, but the speech was too organized. And where had the strength to crawl across the room come from?

"Yes, you do." Merlin shot a glare at Gwen. "You all do. I saw it."

"What do we know, Merlin?" Gaius's voice was calculated. Slow.

"I saw it," Merlin was shaking his head back and forth, "in my dream, I saw it-"

"Merlin, what did you see?" Gaius could see Merlin was spiralling. If he kept this up he was going to hurt himself further. "Maybe if you get back into bed-"

"No!" Arthur felt the floorboards beneath him reverberate out from Merlin, and it suddenly occurred to the king that perhaps Morgana hadn't been the one responsible for the sudden wall collapse. "You-" Merlin raised his trembling arm and swept it across the room, encompassing Gwen and Arthur and Gaius, before it fell again. "You all need me, don't you? That's all! I saw her. She's coming. Any day now, she's coming, and you-" he looked at Gaius. His voice softened. "I expected it from Arthur. But you, Gaius- I never thought-"

Arthur's mouth fell open. Oh. So Merlin had had a dream-a vision, maybe, although Arthur wasn't sure if Merlin was capable of visions- of Morgana.

"We were going to tell you," Arthur blurt out, without really thinking anything beyond repairing the rapidly deteriorating situation, and found himself stumbling backwards as Merlin's magic reacted.

"You don't say anything," the warlock hissed, his eyes fading rapidly back to blue from gold.

Gwen cut in. "Merlin, it isn't what it looks like. We just didn't want to make you choose before you'd healed-."

"You were using me."

"No, never," Gwen looked horrified.

"What if she came tomorrow? Would you have told me then or would you have just thrown me into battle and hoped my instincts would kick in? Were you going to kill me after, or were you hoping the strain would do the job for you?" His voice was losing its power, his shoulders drooping. "She'll... kill me, you know. Like this. And I-" he coughed. "And I would let her. I would. I can feel it. I hate you, all of you-" his voice cracked, and it occurred to Arthur that he'd never heard Merlin use the word hate, "but Camelot is… bigger. Than me. Albion is bigger than me. Destiny… it's all bigger than me. It always has been. And I would-" he looked at Gwen. "I just wish-"

"Merlin," Gaius said, taken aback. Merlin had never spoken about destiny in front of Arthur or Gwen, and it only proved that he wasn't fully in the proper state of mind. That, or he was too distraught to care. If he truly thought they were planning on killing him when he was no longer needed, what damage could talking about destiny possibly do? "Whatever you saw, I assure you that none of us want you dead."

Merlin laughed. "Maybe not yet-"

"At all." Gwen insisted. "You're allowed to say no."

"No, I'm not. I'm really not."

"You are," Arthur said cautiously. "And don't you remember? I tried to tell you, with the collar. You thought I wanted information about Morgana, but in reality, I was-"

"Is that why you went through all the trouble of releasing me? To save yourself? To save Camelot?"

"No, Merlin. I was-"

"Because I don't remember any of it," Merlin muttered. "You all keep whispering about this grand spell to release me from that collar, but I don't remember any of it. And honestly? I don't think I want to."

Everybody fell silent. Gwen and Gaius had guessed that the details were blurry, considering his lack of discussion on the matter, but they'd certainly thought he'd remembered something from the spell. From the descriptions Arthur had given, the entire experience seemed like an important step towards Merlin's recovery. But then, it must have also been deeply traumatic; even Arthur hadn't given full details, only vague descriptions to Iseldir to make sure everything had gone the way it was supposed to. What were they supposed to do with this information?

"I know there was a collar and a cell," Merlin whispered. "I know Arthur came to get me. I know that I woke up in this room," he motioned vaguely to where the wall used to be, "and I know that the collar was confiscated at some point between then and now." He was crying. "But I don't remember any of it," he spat, "Or- most of it. I remember Owain. I remember Leon's face. I remember a scribe and some guards and some other…" he swallowed. "...other things. But that's all. I don't remember a spell. I have a vague understanding that time passed, that Arthur knows more than I remember telling him, but I don't remember speaking, to Arthur or anybody else, and I certainly don't remember any conversation about Morgana, aside from the questions I got from Owain." He stopped then, coughing and gulping air, obviously too worked up to continue. There was sweat on his brow and chest.

Gaius stepped in then, pushing Arthur gently to the side, bypassing Gwen before kneeling in front of Merlin. He put a wrinkled hand on Merlin's knee, but it went unnoticed by the warlock, who was trying to catch his breath. He was hyperventilating, tears running down his face. Gaius couldn't tell if this was a reaction to a fever or if Merlin was actually this distrustful of the three of them, but it appeared to be a little bit of both.

Only four things were certain: One, Merlin was, not surprisingly, distrustful of everybody close to him. Two, Merlin's magic was reacting to Merlin's emotions (and had, presumably, just reduced Gaius's wall to bits). Three, Merlin now knew of Morgana's imminent approach and his role in the defense, through either subconscious recall or a vision of some sort. And four, Merlin didn't remember what had happened between him and Arthur in the collar spell, aside from the fact that it happened.

On the bright side, Gaius thought, at least he was speaking about the past. He was never going to recover mentally if he avoided it.

"Merlin," Gaius said quietly, and Merlin shook his head.

"No," he said, "Just leave me alone."

"Do you want to know what happened or not?"

Merlin's laugh was wet. "When? While I was locked away? Or when I was in the Druids' spell?"

"That's your choice."

"No, I don't want to know."

Gaius rose an eyebrow. Merlin looked away. "Gaius…" his voice was strained, almost whining.

"You'll keep rushing to conclusions otherwise," Gaius warned. "And I don't need another disappearing wall in my rooms."

Merlin looked at Gaius. His eyes were bloodshot, swollen. His nose was running. Quietly, he nodded.

"Arthur," a voice said from the other side of the room, and everybody turned, startled, to see Iseldir. "Show him the document."

Arthur paled. "It isn't done yet," he said, "and besides, I can't walk all the way to my chambers."

"I think you will find that you can." He nodded towards Merlin. "If Emrys's magic is showing this much recovery-" he looked at the wall.

Arthur looked down at his own feet. In the excitement, he'd forgotten all about the magic damage, and Iseldir was right- the aching had stopped. He was standing on his own, had walked over wreckage, and hadn't felt a thing.

Nodding numbly, Arthur turned and exited Gaius's chambers.

Merlin watched him go with wary eyes.

"Now," Iseldir looked at the remaining three occupants. "What happened?"