A/N: I just want to warn you guys that this story will be much shorter than Rememory - only about five chapters. Rememory, you realize, spanned over a year of time, plot-wise. This story does not.

The reviews y'all are leaving for the final chapter of Rememory and for this story are phenomenal. I love you all for expressing your love for these fics. Since we're so close, can I confess something? I'm already dying to write a third fic to make this a trilogy, but that's, like, such a Big Time Fic Writer thing and I'm worried it wouldn't be good enough. What do you guys think? Should I do it? Or would it be better as just Rememory and its sequel? What would you even want to happen in the third part? Because I only like to write whump, and I have already put Merlin through a hell of a lot. I don't know.

Arthur's eyes shot to Merlin as soon as those words registered. The dark haired boy had frozen, eyes unseeing. When he didn't make a sound, Arthur got up and moved across the room. He knelt in front of him.

"Merlin?"

There was no reaction. Merlin's eyes were clouded over and he didn't seem to hear him. But he looked afraid. Arthur knew something was seriously wrong.

"Merlin, can you hear m-"

Arthur was startled by a sick crunching sound. Merlin's face scrunched up in pain and he screamed. Unsure if physical contact would help or hurt, Arthur checked him gently for a new, inexplicable injury. There, the left ankle. It was broken. Merlin didn't react to the snapped bone being touched.

Arthur was bewildered. Merlin's breathing picked up, then a grinding popping sound and Merlin lurched forward, cradling his right shoulder. It had just been dislocated by some invisible force. The boy was groaning in agony.

"It isn't real!" Arthur hissed. "It's just magic. Merlin," The warlock couldn't hear him. "Please. See me. You're okay."

Merlin curled in on himself tighter with a jerk. A series of winces and grunts led up to a small crunch, and the servant cried out. Sounded like a broken rib.

This wasn't right. Merlin didn't deserve this. He'd been through hell, twice, and now some sick freak was making him suffer again.

Another rib snapped, but Merlin held in his sound of pain. He was trying to be strong. He was brave.

The injustice of it all made Arthur's blood boil.

Another snap.

Fueled by passion, the blonde grasped his friend's shoulders, trying to get him to uncurl and see him. He succeeded in making him sit back, but those eyes were still dull and unseeing. Arthur sat square in front of him.

"Merlin."

No sign of recognition. Another invisible blow met his chest. A rib did not snap, but Merlin wheezed and clasped at his side, brows furrowed and mouth agape. Arthur kept him upright.

"I'm here. I'm right here. Do you hear me?"

Arthur was beginning to feel helpless. He couldn't break the spell or protect Merlin in any way. He'd just have to hope it would be over soon so his friend could rest and heal. Feeling a failure, the king sat against the wall beside his unseeing companion and held his hand. If nothing else, he could be there for him as soon as he was back.

It took ages. For the amount of damage he was sustaining, the servant was surprisingly quiet. Arthur wondered what he saw. He knew from the countless withheld sounds of fear and hurt that it really was his worst nightmare. Of course, Arthur knew what that was. It made him sick. He was hurting his friend again. It wasn't even him, wasn't even real, but it was real enough to hurt Merlin. Would he even survive this? Would it stop before too much damage was done?

Arthur's spiraling doubts and regrets were halted as the boy inhaled deeply and blinked rapidly.

"A-Arthur?" He whispered, his lax grip on the king's hand tightening.

"Merlin," The blonde replied, relieved. He let go and moved to face him. "Are you okay?"

The servant looked around the room, then at his king. "Aren't you..." He faltered, looking beyond confused.

"It wasn't real. I mean, it was. But not really. That man used some kind of magic to make you see your worst fear." He looked over the other's body solemnly. "And the blows hurt your body as if it really happened." His face grew concerned. "But it didn't happen. I swear, I didn't- I wouldn't-"

Merlin nodded. "Okay. I know what I saw; what did it look like to you?"

Arthur shrugged. "You went still, and silent. You couldn't see or hear anything. It was like your mind was gone. But every time you were hurt, you reacted. Less and less over time." He frowned. "You were brave."

Merlin's eyes flicked away. "No, I wasn't."

Arthur caught his gaze. "You were. Very brave. You shouldn't have to be."

Merlin winced.

"Are you okay?"

"Mhmm," Merlin hummed tiredly, tilting his head back to rest against the stone wall. "I-it hurts."

"You should lie down," The king suggested. "Here." He reached out to help him shift, but stopped before he made contact. Arthur looked torn.

"What is it?" Merlin asked softly.

"I... you just saw me hurt you again. I shouldn't..." He was afraid to bring him more pain. It would break his heart if Merlin flinched from him.

"It's alright," The raven haired boy promised. "I'm not afraid of you."

The blonde was unsure. "How?"

"I know that you will keep me safe," he answered without hesitation. "This is weak magic. Nothing like Morgana's." Arthur's eyes darkened in anger for a moment at the witch's name. "It is temporary. And he can't make the other you speak. Controlling the actions and speech of the subject would take a great amount of concentration. It's a poor copy of my king, to say the least."

Arthur nodded. "You're sure?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Would you just help me already? I am terribly uncomfortable."

"Okay." The blonde helped him shift until he was lying on his back near the wall. Without a second thought, Arthur sat cross-legged and lifted his friend a bit so he could rest with his head in his lap.

Merlin closed his eyes. His expression was a bit strained from the pain, but he looked better.

"I'll keep you safe," Arthur promised lowly, looking down at his friend.

"I know," Merlin answered sleepily.

"Drink."

Merlin shook his head, pulling away. He had nowhere to go, huddled up against the wall, but he still tried. The potion nearing his lips made his breathing grow quicker.

"You will drink this," The sorcerer growled, "or the visions will stop and I will make the real king hurt you."

The warlock whimpered but he still turned his head when the vial neared his lips.

"Merlin," Arthur called from where he was held against the wall. "Do as he says."

"No, no," The boy whined. "It h-hurts."

"It'll hurt a lot worse when your precious king is beating you into the ground!"

"I know it hurts, Merlin, but you need to drink it. Please," Arthur implored. Merlin looked over to him and saw how desperate his friend was for him to obey. Ah, Merlin realized, of course. It would hurt Arthur just as much to hurt Merlin again. Merlin didn't want Arthur to feel that.

"O-okay," The servant stuttered. The sorcerer grinned coldly and grasped a handful of the boy's hair, forcing his head back and pouring the potion down his throat. Merlin startled at the force, but he didn't cough it up. Once he'd taken it and the grip on his hair was released, the warlock grimaced and shook. He clawed at his chest as the tincture forced his magic farther out of his reach. Merlin shivered at the cold of it, the uncontrollable fear that seized his heart when his magic was harmed.

Arthur was at his side. Their captor must have left.

"You're okay," Arthur said softly. "It's okay."

Merlin curled in on himself even more as he rode out the tremors. He wasn't okay. He felt as if he never would be.

"Look at me. Merlin, look at me."

The raven-haired boy's clouded over eyes skittered from far off to the man in front of him. He struggled to focus.

"Look at me."

After a moment, Merlin's eyes focused on Arthur. His sight cleared a bit, just enough to see him.

Arthur smiled. "Hey. I'm right here."

Merlin nodded a bit. Then, his breath hitched and his eyes flickered away, seeing something to the left.

"Just look at me, Merlin, it's just you and me." Arthur coaxed. The warlock looked back at him, giving a shaky smile. Arthur smiled back. "You're okay."

Merlin never spoke once the hallucinations started. But, when he managed to break through them and see his Arthur, it helped. Arthur speaking was the only way he could tell what was real and what was magic. Arthur was patient and calm and steadfast.

The first invisible blow came, and Merlin almost lost his focus on Arthur with the force of it. For a second, his Arthur blinked out of his sight and before him stood that Arthur, reeling back his fist with a gleam in his eye.

"It's not real," someone said. Merlin blinked, centered his thoughts, and his Arthur appeared once more. "Do you see me?"

Merlin nodded.

"Good. That's good. Who wouldn't want to see this handsome face?" He grinned charmingly.

Merlin smiled. Arthur. Arthur wasn't angry. Arthur was happy. That was good.

His collarbone gave with a crack and Merlin's face distorted in agony. He slid down the wall as he tried to escape the source of the pain.

Arthur helped him stay upright. "Shh, you're okay. It's not real."

Merlin, even through all the pain he was in, shot him an annoyed look.

"Okay, sorry, I know it feels real."

The servant tried to even his breaths. Gods, he was in pain. A blow met the freshly broken bone and he whimpered. A third hit, and the real Arthur disappeared to be replaced by the hallucination. Merlin tried to move away from the Arthur before him, but he was trapped against the wall. The king kicked him in the face and his head snapped back, slamming into the wall. He couldn't see the real Arthur, couldn't hear his calm voice. Merlin choked on blood, choked on a sob as his king punched him in the temple, making thinking even harder.

He couldn't hear Arthur, but he felt a hand slip into his, interlocking fingers and giving a reassuring squeeze. The warlock held on tight as the punches ceased, the Arthur above him grinding his boot into the servant's broken ankle. He screamed desperately. Merlin looked up, watching tearfully as the king noticed his hand was clawed, as if holding someone else's hand.

Enraged, hallucination Arthur crouched down and grabbed the hand. Merlin tried to pull it back, but he failed. His fingers were snapped, slowly, one by one. Merlin felt the hand in his leave. His sobs grew heavier.

The real Arthur watched as Merlin's eyes clouded over completely and his reactions grew worse and worse. He begged Merlin to hear him, to see him, but the servant's mind was beyond reach. In a last-ditch attempt to reach him, Arthur sat beside him and held his hand. Merlin must have known he was there - he squeezed back. The warlock's head turned with the force of each invisible blow, his nose and lips dripping blood. He was crying, too, and having trouble breathing. Arthur was bristling, but there was nothing he could do. Merlin's hoarse, agonized scream after the punches stopped made Arthur flinch. Merlin was staring into the dark, those blind eyes wide and overflowing with tears.

When Arthur felt one of Merlin's fingers snap against his own, hearing the whimpers, the king felt sick to his stomach. He should let go. The next finger broke horridly, and Arthur was sure holding the hand was only making it hurt worse. He slipped his hand out of the boy's loosening grip. When Merlin realized he was gone, the raven haired boy cried more desperately. Gods, what could he do?

"A-Arthur?" Merlin whispered. The blonde blinked, surprised. Merlin had never spoken while the magic was confining his mind. It was too difficult, more so than trying to see through the hallucination. But he was doing it now.

"I'm here," Arthur promised. "Merlin, it's okay, I'm right here."

"Arthur?" Merlin asked again. "Please, Arthur?" He couldn't hear him. He didn't even think Arthur was still there. Arthur felt like he was drowning. The king bellowed in fury.

Merlin gasped wetly, his vision clearing. He looked around, stopping when he saw the blonde. Arthur didn't wait for him to speak, he just helped his exhausted friend lie down. As he placed Merlin's head in his lap, he repeated the same phrase over and over.

"I'm here. You're okay. I'm with you."

A/N: I love them. And I love breaking their hearts. I mean, try and tell me that your favorite parts aren't when they're suffering and distressed and trying/failing to protect each other. Argh, these two, the whole best friends thing - kills me.