Disclaimer: I do not own any of the series' on BBC and I do not own the Arthurian legend.

Everything went black...

Chapter 6

Merlin woke when Gaius arrived home. The old man had found Merlin unconscious in the boys' room. He was running a temperature and, when his eyelids were pulled back, they revealed severely bloodshot eyes. Merlin had woken before Gaius could examine him further. And due to this, he hadn't been able to notice the burn marks running along Merlins' arm.

The young warlock had jumped up when he was conscious enough to see Gaius. Merlin remembered everything that had happened. He remembered being trapped in the nightmarish viewing of the Doctors past and future, he remembered the immense pain, which he still felt, and he remembered everything he'd seen in the visions. The whispering was still at the back of his mind, but the words were undefinable, all he heard was what sounded like a constant gale, muffled, but still there. Quite quickly the short interrogation began, "Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed when his ward awoke. "What happened? Are you okay? Where are you going?" Gaius asked the last question a bit flabbergasted as the youth moved to the door.

Merlin had stumbled out of the room without answering, being careful to shield his disfigured arm from inanimate objects and Gaius' prying eyes. "Sorry Gaius," was the only thing said before he was out the main door. Gaius sat there dumbfounded for a few minutes before finally getting up, his old bones cracking from being on the ground for so long. He was worried about Merlin of course, but he had to get back to work. That case of chicken pox could be contagious… his thoughts trailed off.

Merlin staggered through the castle, heading towards Arthurs' chambers. As near as he could tell, he had been unconscious for around three hours. He careened through the doors to Arthurs' quarters without bothering to knock. Merlin knew Arthur would be at a meeting anyway.

He grabbed the kings' amour and hauled it over to the table, but even that small movement encouraged the pain to show itself again. He tried to busy himself. He felt his eyes water again from the overwhelming onrush of information that had flooded through his mind. Over nine hundred years of memories and intelligence all uploaded into his memory bank in less than an hour, he figured it was safe to say that it was all a bit much.

Merlin started polishing, rubbing away the flaws in the metal, and brushed away any tears that fell past his eyes. He stopped occasionally, though, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. He worked for hours, wasting away time, moving from chore to chore, favouring his injury, until eventually it was dark outside.

Merlin examined the room feeling slightly disappointed. Everything was finished. His head was still pounding and he was still sweating, but there was nothing else to do. His dry eyes drooped and gazed around in a blood shot daze, he numbly recognised the pain in his arm, and finally ended up with his back to the door.

At that moment, Arthur walked in and saw Merlin standing there empty handed. Merlin wiped the sweat off his forehead with his good hand.

He turned then, and saw Arthur. "Hmm…" said Merlin, trying to sound cheerful and normal. He took in Arthurs' annoyed look. "I'll just go and get your dinner," the king slumped around grumpily. He sidestepped around Arthur before he could get anything thrown at him, and within seconds, he'd tumbled through the door.

He staggered towards the kitchens as steadily as he could in his sickened state. He coughed into his unharmed hand from time to time and sweat kept streaming down his face to soak his neckerchief. He was panting when he arrived at the kitchens, but gave it no thought.

The whole of his short trip, Merlin had been wondering about the Doctor. Merlin knew that he was an alien, and that they were all from the future. He also knew that Amy and Rory were married too. He wondered how to confront the man, now knowing he definitely had to. The spires growing up his arm were proof enough of that. Merlin wondered what their reactions would be to finding out he knew everything there was to know about them and that mad man who stole a magic blue box. When he imagined their reactions to finding out he actually had magic, he almost laughed aloud.

He gathered Arthurs' dinner and asked the rowdy cook to prepare three meals for their guests. She didn't seem happy to be following orders from a servant but she obliged without obvious complaint. Merlin delivered Arthurs' dinner, throwing a 'thank you' over his shoulder as he left the kitchens. He entered the chambers to see the King pacing around the room. "Rough day?" Arthur seemed startled by the sudden appearance of his servant. Merlin kept his head tilted down and hid his arm beneath the plate, taking care not to bump it.

"Does the council not understand that it doesn't matter of what standing Gwen is, I will still love her? Agravaine hasn't been helping with the debate at all and they keep pestering me about her, telling me I should marry into an alliance, that I should forget her… Argh!" He threw his helmet aside in frustration.

"I'm sure they will come around eventually," sighed Merlin in attempts to appease him. "Although I don't see why they don't just accept the fact that you're in love with a serving girl," Merlins' head pounded again as he saw their future, Gwen sitting on the throne, to be more specific. He smiled in spite of the pain caused by the images flashing before his eyes.

Merlin glanced up from placing the food on the dining table. Arthur walked around to sit in the chair. "I know what you mean," he tucked in to eat his dinner of roasted pork and potatoes.

"I have to go," Merlin said hesitantly. Arthur looked up confused, having forgotten about the new arrivals earlier that day. "I have to go serve dinner to our new guest," Merlin explained. "Is there anything you need before I leave, sire?" Arthur shook his head whilst chewing on a piece of pork, brooding over the council meeting, "Well then, goodnight, Sire," Merlin bowed slightly, not feeling in the mood to make any sarcastic remarks. He turned to walk from the room.

"Goodnight Merlin," Arthur responded sincerely.

Merlin was out of sight from Arthur. He stumbled backwards and found himself leaning against the nearest wall. He ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. Merlin could tell he had bags drooping beneath his eyelids, but he pushed off the wall anyway and slowly made his way back to the kitchens.

He arrived there and found three meals; one less extravagant that the others, but still no meagre meal, all the same Merlin had a feeling that Rory wouldn't be too pleased by the differences. All three plates lay out on food tray, making it easier to carry, but the young warlock still had trouble lifting it. It was like the infection in his arm was sapping his general strength too. Merlin was already considered weak by the majority of the people he knew, but this was just getting ridiculous. Now he would be considered even more of a laughing stock, unable to properly lift a carry tray. His head pounded again.

He made his way to the guest chambers on wobbly feet and was glad to see them all there. Now was not the time to be wondering around the castle looking for three time travellers. It wasn't the time to confront them either, but he still smiled weakly at the thought. Merlin stopped at the door to listen to what they were saying.

"But how can someone think that they have magic?" Tt was Rory speaking at that moment. "It's not like they can go prancing around singing 'oh look at me, I have magic! Alacazam, make things fly!'" He giggled girlishly and spoke in a mock sing-song voice, clearly not believing any of what Merlin could do. He almost started laughing right then and there at the coincidence of it all. There he was, a real, living, breathing warlock standing right outside their door, ready to make things fly without a moment's notice. Although he wasn't quite sure he'd use the exact words, 'Alacazam, make things fly!' it was still humorous.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure there isn't really such a thing as magic. It's probably just a low lying telepathy field that you can tap into with a little practice. It-" Merlin interrupted the Doctor by knocking on the door with his foot three times. As much as he wanted to hear the Doctors' theory, the tray of food was getting really heavy.

Silence fell in the room for a moment before the whispers started. "What if it's him?" Whispered Rory.

"It doesn't matter whether-" the Doctor started, but before he could say more, Amy pulled the door open. It seemed as if she tried to smile when she saw Merlin standing there with the heavy load, but it came out as more of a grimace. She glanced back into the room, sending a warning glance to Rory, he assumed, and opened the door wider to let him in. Merlin was hiding his mangled arm beneath the tray, curling it under and out of sight.

He wondered what he would look like from an outsiders perspective. Pale, sweating, and shivering from a fever. Bloodshot eyes and shoulders slumped forward from the weight of their dinner. Black bags under his eyes, and a wobbling balance. Merlin shivered, only then realising just how sick he was. It was a wonder Arthur hadn't called a plague alert when he'd first seen him.

A sense of nausea crept into his stomach as he looked around the room. Rory sat on a chair with his feet propped up on the table, trying and failing, to look comfortable, and the Doctor… Merlin didn't get the chance to see what he was doing. Another vision hit him.

The Doctor was sitting a table with a child version of Amelia Pond. Fish Fingers and Custard, Merlin thought. "There's a crack in my wall…" Amy's childish voice echoed. The scene changed.

"Wibbly-Wobbly-Timey-Whimey…" They stood in Amelia's room, right next to the crack in her wall. He had his head against it, touching certain parts of the wall with his fingertips. "Two parts of space and time that should never touched," He ran his finger along the crack and tested it by pushing on it, "pressed together."

Merlins' sight returned back to normal. He stumbled to the side, almost dropping the tray of food. Rory jumped up to help him with the food before the young warlock could drop it. Merlin muttered an unintelligible 'thanks', but kept his head down in fear of another vision. His very mind was burning, worse than ever. He took a breath to steady himself and stepped back.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," he bowed slightly, towards the Doctor, trying to keep up the fading façade. "My Lady," He bowed again. "Please excuse me. I must go and get your night things. Please enjoy your supper," he was out the door before any of them could say a word. The whispers had started again, making it feel like someone was hammering away at his brain. He will knock four times... River Song, Melody Pond… Bad Wolf...