Merlin faded in and out of consciousness for what seemed to him like days. Every time he woke, there was a loud ringing in his ears that made it hard to think. He was always somewhere different: either on tangled roots on the ground under a grove of trees, or on the hard stone floor of a cave. The warlock had a feeling they were getting farther away from Camelot, but he was too disoriented to be sure.

The only thing he was sure about now was that he was trapped. The creature was growing stronger every time it fed off of Merlin, and Merlin was growing impossibly weaker. He felt almost paralyzed, his body losing most of its mobility, his heart thumping harder to compensate for the blood loss. His magic was numb in him, barely a flicker. He'd be lucky to cast even a simple spell.

Merlin dragged his eyelids open. Even that small effort was utterly exhausting. He was in a dark cave again, his back propped up against the cold, damp stone. He barely had the strength to shiver. There was a weak fire glowing next to him that Merlin assumed was only to keep him alive enough to feed off of. The thought alone made his stomach turn.

Merlin missed Camelot. His heart ached for it; the lively city below, the warmth of Gaius's hearth and sturdy embrace. He even missed Arthur yelling mindlessly at him. Gods, Arthur. Arthur had warned Merlin not to go after the monster alone, and for once, Merlin wished he had listened. The last thing Merlin remembered of Arthur was when he said if you try to come to work today, I'll end you myself. Now, he'd never see Arthur again.

Merlin heard rustling from the mouth of the cave and saw that thing making its way over to him. It placed a bundle of berries and some kind of meat next to him. Merlin's stomach twisted at the thought of eating and he stared angrily into the creature's milky eyes.

"I don't want it."

The thing shrugged. "You will eventually. And if I need to, I can make you eat." The edge of its torn lip curled upward.

Merlin turned his head away. The creature reached for Merlin but hissed and drew back. His magic had instinctively shocked it, burning its fingertips. He supposed there was just a little bit left in him, but it had dwindled down even more now.

"What are you?"

Merlin's own bitter, barking laugh surprised him, but he couldn't stop once it burst out of him. "I should ask you the same damn thing."

"You're not like any human I've met before, magic or not."

Merlin felt his eyes roll despite himself. "You mean killed."

"I don't know why you always insist on being so difficult, Merlin. I have to kill to survive. Besides, your magic has little effect on me and it drains your energy. You may as well get used to having me around."

Merlin flinched as those horribly familiar fingers ghosted over his neck. The creature sighed nonchalantly.

"You really have it all, don't you? Power, immortality, and those shining blue eyes."

Merlin's breath hitched, his heart dropping like stone.

"I haven't craved anything but eternal life for so long, but now I have it." Its voice lessened to a whisper, "I have you."

The warlock fought the urge to vomit as he felt the demon's teeth tracing his jawline and resting at his ear. The touch was unbearably cold. Merlin jerked his head away, attempting to control the knotting in his stomach when he thought about the creature's rotting face touching him in such a way.

The demon seemed to have read his mind, and Merlin supposed that it probably did. "Would you prefer it if I looked like this?" it asked.

Merlin defiantly kept his eyes away as he hugged himself, desperate to protect himself but nearly powerless to do so. He felt delicate fingers tugging at his jaw. They weren't as cold as they usually were. When Merlin couldn't fight it anymore, he looked.

Merlin's breath left him all at once, leaving him gasping. "N-no, no. Stop it!" It was Freya staring back at him, mere inches from his face. Merlin's vision blurred, his eyes burning from sudden tears. "You're not her…"

But it looked just like her. It was wrong. So wrong. Her hand trailed down his cheek so gently. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. He missed her like hell.

He didn't have the strength to push her away and she kissed him, lightly and sweetly, just like the first time. But it wasn't her. Merlin pulled back and promptly vomited into the dirt. She didn't let go of his arm and stroked him gently and it made him feel so much worse. It was so sick, so twisted and wrong that it made Merlin physically ill. His retching turned to muffled sobs.

"Please, not her. I can't—just stop," Merlin begged between gasps.

The warlock expected the thing to ignore him, to torment him, but it cocked its head. It shuddered, then Merlin heard a few strange popping sounds and Freya was gone. He let out a breath of relief. Even facing that ghastly face was better than the painful memories of a loss that still kept him awake at night. The icy fingers returned, sliding under his chin and lifting his head slightly. Merlin lacked the strength to pull away.

"No matter. I'm very patient," it hissed.

Merlin frowned, but had no chance to respond before the creature pushed his head back against the stone, exposing his neck. A hoarse scream ripped itself from Merlin's throat as the monster latched on, sucking his life-force right out of him. And gods did it hurt, more than the first time. His very veins were on fire, spreading quickly from his neck to his chest and stealing his breath away. Merlin's vision blurred as the pain consumed him, invading his mind. His body became racked with tremors. He could still feel those terrible, cold fangs tearing into the tender flesh of his neck as it drank up his blood.

Then it finally let go, and Merlin slid bonelessly to the ground. A single tear flowed down his cheek as he lay there, his eyes glassy as he gasped for breath for his stuttering heart.

"Arthur…"

The world went dark.