"Merlin, wake up." Lancelot shook the young warlock gently by the shoulders. "We've arrived. You have to get up so we can get you to Gaius." Merlin stirred sluggishly, then opened his eyes to reveal too-bright eyes underneath.

"Wha… Gaius?" He murmured quietly, then coughed violently into the air, too weak to cover it.

"Yes, Gaius. We have to get you to him." The knight repeated, slightly worried about the look of confusion on his friend's face. He lifted a hand to steady Merlin before helping him to the ground, partially holding him up when his feet hit solid earth. "Can you walk?"

"Of course." Lancelot stepped back, hands raised, letting Merlin attempt to walk on his own. The ailing boy actually did quite well, until he coughed again, causing him to stumble.

"Are you absolutely sure?" asked Arthur, and Merlin turned to him with a new fire in his eyes, quite separate from the burning fever.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Merlin said loudly, causing him to turn and cough a few times in his fist. "You guys worry too much. I'm fine. I'll just go to Gaius and he'll give me a potion and I'll be fit to act as your moving target. That's all you care about right? That the trusty servant will be by your side, in sickness and in health? Well don't worry, because I will always be here! Right where I've been since the day I arrived in Camelot! You never need to wonder if I'll be alright, because I will always be fine!" And he stood there, winded from the rant, watching as Arthur stared with confusion, anger, and hurt in his eyes.

"So that's what you think then? That all we care about is what you do for us?" Gwaine snapped angrily, causing Merlin's head to snap in the knight's direction.

"Yeah… Merlin, do you honestly think we don't care about you? After all we've been through together, that's what you think of us?" Asked Lancelot, causing Merlin's eyes to lower in shame.

"Come on, you're one of my best mates. Don't think I've forgotten how you saved my sister's life when you barely knew her." Added Elyan. Then, much to Merlin's surprise, Arthur stepped forward and embraced the young warlock, releasing quickly but not before speaking to him in a fierce voice.

"And you still think you're just my servant? Please. I wouldn't have put up with you for this long if you didn't have some redeeming qualities. Don't ever say anything like that again. We all care about you, and if you're ill, we will help you, but not because we like you as a servant. It's because we like you as a person."

Merlin stared at Arthur, mouth open in shock before smiling hesitantly.

"Now why don't we get you to Gaius's chambers before you collapse." Lancelot said after Merlin let out a few chest-rattling coughs. He turned to walk away but in a flash he found Arthur's hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn back around. The king leaned in and said in a low, threatening voice:

"Tell anyone what was said here, and you will wish that your only problem was a cough."

Merlin let out a sharp laugh and then a few short coughs before responding.

"Of course, my lord." The warlock turned once more and made his way to Gaius, taking care to keep one hand on the wall.

Watching his friend stagger away, Arthur felt a stab of guilt run through his body. He never thought he had really treated his servant that badly - at least, not any worse than any of his previous servants - but it appeared that this particular one was more sensitive to his taunts and jeers. But Merlin isn't like any of my other servants, Arthur chided to himself. The king wasn't completely oblivious to Merlin's rough childhood (a hazard of being a sickly peasant boy without a father), courtesy of overheard drunken conversations, but he could never truly imagine what it must've been like. Of course he feels like we think he's worthless. So many people did.

"What the hell was that about?" Elyan voiced, but there was no response. Lancelot and Gwaine were privy to Merlin's insecurities as well, but Elyan hadn't really been confided in yet; he would, but not quite yet. That was just how things went sometimes with Merlin.

"I hope Gaius can do something for that cough," Lancelot said instead, watching as Merlin turned a corner in the distance, blocking him from sight, "God knows it must be painful." No one else said anything, but one by one they made their way to their chambers and reflected on the previous days' events. Arthur suffered a small but passionate rant from the Queen, who had been worried sick about them when they didn't turn up by the second day. After she heard about Merlin, however, she fell silent and crawled into bed next to her husband, softly stroking his blond hair.

"Don't worry about him, Arthur. He's always fine, in the end." This final statement reminded him far to much of what Merlin had said to them back in the hall, and he said nothing in response, just turning to give his wife a quick peck on the cheek before closing his eyes, hoping to get a few hours of sleep that night (unlike the night before).

Merlin, on the other hand had different plans. After a long and arduous journey involving several coughing fits and near-collapses, he finally reached what he had come to think of as his home. He had hoped that, upon entering, he would find Gaius awake, waiting for his ward to return. Unfortunately, this was not the case. It must have been later than the young warlock realized, because when he entered, he saw Gaius sleeping by the fire and a cold sandwich on the table with a note that read "For when you return - Gaius". Merlin sighed, coughed, then dropped his bag on the chair. He left the sandwich, too nauseous from the coughing to eat much of anything, and slowly made his way to his room, pausing once to cough again and put a hand on the table to steady himself. He saw Gaius stir in his sleep, and Merlin had the selfish desire for the physician to wake up and notice how ill his ward had become, before Merlin shook his head. He needs rest too. Let him sleep. With this thought, he climbed the stairs to his room and entered, sitting on his bed almost immediately. He felt something crackle in his chest before the urge to cough overtook him once more, and he dissolved into a fit of gut-wrenching coughs. He hoped to God that he wasn't disturbing Gaius, as the coughs were as loud as they were painful. After about a minute of coughing, Merlin laid back in his hard bed, not bothering to get into his nightclothes. He laid there for a few minutes before letting his exhaustion and fever take over and falling asleep.

Gaius woke in the morning to the sound of harsh coughing coming from Merlin's bedroom. The coughs hadn't woken him, as he was a notoriously deep sleeper, so he wondered how long it had been going on before he woke up. Gaius sat there and listened to the painful-sounding cough for a few seconds more, partially hoping it would go away and he wouldn't have to go wake Merlin up, but he had no such luck. The cough became more productive, and then the sound of retching and splattering reached the physician's ears. Sighing with resignation and worry, he stood and made his way into the young warlock's room, pausing when he entered to take in the scene. There was Merlin, still leaning over the side of the bed and facing what looked like green tinged water. So he isn't eating, thought Gaius. Merlin, who was still panting from the exertion of the fit, lifted his head to show red-rimmed eyes and a face as pale as death.

"Gaius! As y-" Merlin started, but was interrupted by rough coughing once more. He coughed into his sleeve, facing away from his guardian in the hopes that he wouldn't get him sick. Gaius, with the speed of a much younger man, crossed the room (careful to avoid the puddle of sick on the floorboards) and sat on the bed beside Merlin, rubbing the young warlock's back as he coughed and frowning when he felt the fever burning under the skin. After a little bit, the fit subsided, and Merlin leaned self-consciously against the older man's shoulder.

"As you can see, I'm home." Merlin winced as he spoke, and so did Gaius, but for entirely different reasons. Merlin coughed once more, and Gaius could hear the congestion moving around in the young boy's lungs and was immediately filled with concern.

"How long have you been ill?" Gaius asked sharply, ignoring the way Merlin shrunk in on himself before answering.

"Well-" He cleared his throat tentatively, "I really didn't start feeling that bad until the second day of the hunt."

"But how long have you been feeling under the weather?" Gaius rephrased, detecting evasion in the previous answer.

"Just a few days, I swear!"

"So you were feeling poorly before you left?"

"Not really. I mean, I felt a little slow, a little tired, but that's all." Gaius nodded once, then gestured for Merlin to take his shirt off and lay back, which he did without complaint, although he did begin coughing again while taking his shirt off, causing something of an awkward situation while he sat there, shirt half off, hacking his lungs up. Eventually, he got settled, and Gaius put a hand against Merlin's forehead to gauge the fever.

"What have your symptoms been? Other than cough, of course."

"Gaius, I'm fine. It's just a cold. A bad one, I'll give you that, but a cold."

"Merlin, as much as I see you as my son, right now you are my patient, which means you shut up and answer my questions." Gaius smiled to reassure the young warlock before continuing. "So, coughing?"

"Right, um… Sore throat. Feels like I swallowed fire. Headache. My chest hurts a bit," That was an understatement, but Merlin wanted this done quickly, "Nauseous, but that's from the coughing… dizzy… fever, but you already knew that, and… oh!" Merlin said suddenly, remembering the thing that had scared him the most, "My magic. It's… difficult to use, and both the times I've used it since first getting sick I passed out." Gaius raised his iconic eyebrow, before putting his head on the young warlock's chest, listening to his heart and lungs.

"Well, the headache and dizziness can be explained by the fever, and the chest pain from the coughing. Your fever isn't a high one, not anymore at least, but the thing I'm most concerned about is what I heard in your lungs. From what I could tell-"

"But what about my magic? Why can't I use it?" Gaius sighed in annoyance at being interrupted, but went with it.

"You're probably just drained, and using your magic when you're ill is like trying to climb a tree when you're ill. Even if you've done it a hundred times before, even if you're strong enough to do it with ease, it becomes difficult and dangerous when done whilst sick." Merlin nodded, satisfied with this answer, before remembering that he interrupted his caretaker with his question.

"Sorry for interrupting," He said quickly, "What about my lungs?" It took Gaius a second before answering.

"As I was saying, from what I could tell, you have accumulated fluid in your lungs from being out in the cold while you had taken ill. If you're not careful, this could become very dangerous very quickly, as it already partially has."

"What do you mean?" Merlin rushed out, before coughing violently. Gaius gently helped the young boy up so he could breathe, and patted his back as the fit took hold. Merlin tried to lean away, again not wanting the older man to fall ill as well, but after struggling against Gaius's grip for a few seconds, he succumbed, choosing not to spend any strength he didn't have. Suddenly, Merlin could feel something from his lungs rising into his mouth.

"G-Gaius…" He forced out, and Gaius understood immediately, grabbing a nearby bucket and shoving it under Merlin's nose. Merlin coughed thrice more, before spitting a mouthful of red-tinged gross into the bucket. The young boy whimpered in pain and embarrassment, and the physician continued rubbing his back in a way of comfort.

"Come on, Merlin. I have to see." Merlin whined in protest, but handed the bucket over anyways. Gaius peered inside before making a soft noise in the back of his throat and setting the bucket aside.

"That's what I mean. There was blood in there, Merlin. The buildup of fluid where there ought to be none has caused damage to your lungs. I only hope that with time, it will heal." What little color that was in Merlin's face left, and the young warlock was left looking shell-shocked and terrified.

"Can you fix it?" Merlin asked, fully aware that he sounded as if he were five years old again.

"I can try, my dear boy. Give me a minute while I prepare a draught and a poultice for your chest. The draught will take away some of the pain and act as an expectorant, while the poultice will make it easier to breathe." Merlin nodded and pulled up the covers, obviously chilled from the fever. Gaius left to make the remedies, and Merlin coughed weakly into the blanket, comforted by the familiar surroundings.

Arthur made his way to the Court Physician's chambers, worry etched in his usually impassive features. When he received word that Merlin would not be able to come in for work for at least the next week, Arthur dropped everything and hurried to see just how sick his servant really was. Once he arrived at the physician's door, he knocked with the usual vigor out of habit, but his heart really wasn't in it. From inside, he heard a faint "Come in", so he did, shutting the door gently behind him. The first thing that struck him was the smell. It smelled of peppermint, sick, and some other things that the king couldn't identify. The second thing was the sound of weak coughing coming from Merlin's chambers. The coughs were heavy and productive, but short and breathless. Arthur strode to Merlin's door and entered, watching as the physician rubbed a thick, sharp smelling poultice on his servant's chest, pausing every few moments when Merlin coughed his deep cough. The young man's face was pale and sweaty, and he breathed in shallow gasps.

"Merlin?" Arthur said quietly, and the warlock's eyes met the king's, and he could see embarrassment there.

"Arthur?" His voice was all but gone, and each word made Arthur cringe in sympathy, "See? I told you I'd be fine." Arthur laughed humorlessly and drew closer to the bed, looking down at his frail figure.

"Gaius? What's wrong with him?"

"He has fluid in his lungs, sire. I'm currently giving him remedies to cure it, but I will warn you: There may be some permanent damage by the time he is through this." Arthur grew pale and swallowed nervously, but kept his face blank as he met eyes with his servant - friend, Arthur said to himself, he is your friend.

"Leave it to you Merlin to turn some cold into something like this." Merlin smiled weakly, then reached up and grasped Arthur's arm

"Listen-" he rasped, then broke off coughing. Gaius had long since backed away and was now watching sadly from a chair in the corner of the room. Once the fit had subsided, Merlin spoke once more.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I was upset and I didn't mean-"

"Merlin, stop being ridiculous. As much as it pains me to admit it, you're my friend, and I'm… I'm sorry if I've made you think you're anything less than that." The words were obviously difficult to get out, and Merlin smiled at it.

"Arthur, stop it and sit down." Taken aback but pleased, Arthur sat next to Merlin, recoiling slightly from the feverish heat of Merlin's body. "I don't really want to talk about it, not when I feel like this." Merlin gestured at his chest, coughing a bit as he did so. "Can you just… sit here, with me? Please?"

Arthur was surprised by this affection Merlin was showing, but slightly pleased as well.

"Oh well, alright. Is this fine, or should I kneel at your bedside too?" Merlin chuckled and shook his head.

"No, but be warned - I may hold your hand." At this, Arthur outright laughed, making Merlin laugh as well. Of course, the laugh made him cough, and it made him cough hard, shaking the bed with the force of it.

"Just rest Merlin." said Arthur quietly, once the coughs subsided. Merlin nodded slightly, and shut his eyes. Arthur continued gazing at his friend, long past when the young warlock's breaths became snores. He continued gazing when Gaius left the room, mumbling something about preparing another potion. He continued gazing when Merlin started coughing in his sleep, his face turning red with the effort of drawing breath. He did not stop looking until sleep overtook his own body, and he sank into the depths of unconsciousness, not really noticing that he had laid ride beside the frail body of Merlin.