I'm just going to skip the apology today, because I did warn you this was coming. Sadly, it might be a while before I get my head together. I was so happy a few days ago, going back to check the reviews on the story! 280! Gah, I'm going to die. And just when I started thinking that I was writing this story for myself now! Thank you a million

Wisegirl6

Chapter 19 ~Gaius

The stairs were a definite challenge for Merlin. The movement tugged painfully at his back and didn't do much for his aching bruises either. Add that to the constant chest pain and trouble breathing, and Merlin was in a mess of pain.

Merlin took another shaky step up. Oh why did the physician's quarters need to be so far away? The slave hoped Gaius was there, it would be quite a disaster to finally conquer the stairs and reach his former chambers to realize that no one was actually there. But, unless there was an emergency somewhere else in Camelot that required his assistance, Gaius should be done his rounds by now and in his chambers.

As he stared blankly at the stairs looming above him, Merlin was tempted to give up. But the slave knew that he couldn't do that. For his sake and for Gaius'. If the old man had really thought that Merlin had been dead for the past years then he deserved to hear it from Merlin himself that he was absolutely, in no sense of the word, not dead. Everyone deserved to hear the words from Merlin's own mouth.

Merlin promised to himself that he would be the one to tell Arthur about him. And Gwen and Gaius and Gwaine and the knights. If he didn't die first anyways.

The thought was so sudden and disarming that mid-step Merlin lost his balance on the stairs and pitched forwards onto the stone. He gasped as fiery pain shot up his back and the darkness at the edge of his vision began to slowly creep in. "Ow," he muttered. He raised his injured hand, leaving a bloody hand print where he had put it to help break his fall.

Merlin couldn't tell what was worse, the pain from his body or the pain in his heart. The thought had struck him like a dagger to the stomach, he was dying, actually dying. His pent up magic was slowly killing him from the inside, and although it had seemed like a blessing when he was back in Cavell's fortress, it felt like more of a curse now in Camelot.

Because Merlin didn't want to die, not here where he was so close to achieving his goal of getting home. At least, he mused to himself, I'll get to die in Camelot, and not in a dank, dark prison cell. The thought provided him little comfort, but it fueled his desperation. He was not about to give in that easily. He was so close he could taste it!

The warlock climbed to his feet once more, wincing when the pain hit him again. He needed to make it to Gaius' rooms. He needed to.

With that playing like a mantra in his head, Merlin scaled the stairs, making impressive time for a bloody, beaten up man. By the time he made it up the last few steps and saw the familiar wooden door, he could have sobbed with relief.

Merlin started forwards eagerly, all of the strength gone from him. He raised a fist and knocked lightly on the door. Anything else would have injured the appendage further.

Gaius opened it slowly, starting once he noticed the figure covered in blood.

The slave opened his mouth to speak, and promptly passed out.

When Merlin woke up he was confused. He didn't recognize this place. Cavell certainly didn't have a room like this in his fortress. Why was he here, and why did his back feel like he'd been struck by lightning?

"You're very lucky, one of your ribs is very heavily bruised. Any more time and it certainly would have been broken," said a familiar wizened voice from somewhere across the room.

Everything came rushing back to Merlin. He was in Camelot, he had been for several days. Jonah had beat him up after Arthur had breached a little too close to the topic of slave abuse and he'd gone to Gaius for help.

Merlin blinked owlishly at his former guardian. Gaius looked to have aged at least a decade in the past three years. There was something about his mentor that hadn't been there back when Merlin had lived with him. Something that made him look sad and worn. To say the least, Gaius looked resigned.

"Try not to move," he said as he dropped into the chair next to Merlin's bed. "I'm bandaging the wounds on your back." There was tension in Gaius' voice. He began spreading some sort of salve on the whip marks, almost making him moan with relief.

Merlin could hear the unspoken. The words sprang to his lips but the pain rushed up twice as quickly. He cried out abruptly, startling Gaius.

Assuming it was just result of the wounds, Gaius carried on applying the bandages to Merlin's back. "So, how did you come to acquire these particular lacerations?" he asked.

The slave gave no response.

"They almost look as if you were whipped." Gaius said the last word very carefully, somewhere between polite and afraid.

The lie was flowing out before Merlin even had time to consider it. "They're not slashes. They're... they're not." Okay, that was a pretty bad lie by Merlin's standards, but he wasn't putting much of an effort into it. He cast his gaze towards Gaius, hoping that he would realize what Merlin was saying was not the truth.

"Alright." Obviously Gaius wasn't happy with the answer. "You're one of the lord's servants, aren't you? What's your name?"

Merlin opened and closed his mouth, he had no clue what to say. Nobody had ever asked him his name before. As much as he would have loved to just say 'Merlin' and watch Gaius reel in shock as he realized that the man he was treating was none other than his dead ward, but Isobel was too clever. He couldn't tell anyone his real name, as much it pained him he would have to lie again. "Matthew."

Merlin knew that every sentence he spoke was putting him farther and farther from his goal, every word a wall that was slowly rising between the physician and him.

"So, Matthew, how did these bruises come to be?" he asked, not willing to drop the topic of their origin. "These aren't something a simple fall down the stairs could have caused. Someone obviously intended you harm."

Merlin didn't offer up an explanation, why bother anymore? The more suspicious he became, the better the chance of him finding out about Isobel's spell, or better yet, Merlin himself.

Finishing up his back, Gaius leaned back and helped Merlin to sit up.

The pain wasn't as horrible anymore. Reduced to a dull ache by Gaius' skills as a physician.

"I think that should be good. None of your wounds were serious, so I don't see how keeping you overnight could help. Don't do anything too strenuous for the next few days, I don't want those lacerations on your back to reopen. I have some painkillers that you can take with you for the bruises, just let me fetch them," he instructed as he walked to his potions stores to find the elixirs.

Merlin couldn't help but feel a little put out, he had thought that this was his big chance to be recognized but it had slipped away just like everything else.

Noticing his bloody shirt and jacket on the floor next to him, Merlin picked up the garments and inspected them. The shirt was soaked through at the back, completely stained red. The front wasn't as bad; but Merlin was still going to need Sage to wash it for him as not arouse any more suspicion. Despite his naturally disobedient nature, Merlin really didn't want to get beat up if it meant he was defying his master.

He slipped the shirt over his head, wincing as it cut into the tender skin around the bruises. The jacket was pretty good still, and it would cover up the stains on his back for the time being. He put that on as well.

Gaius, finally back with the painkillers, slipped a few vials into Merlin's hands. He eyed Merlin's neck thoughtfully. "You had better cover up those bruises with something," he suggested.

The warlock's hand immediately went to his neck. He thought that Jonah had stayed away from his neck, but a quick check of the area revealed a tenderness in the skin on one side. Definitely a bruise.

His former mentor turned away to straighten the supplies he had used to treat the slave and Merlin thought of what he could use to hide it.

Almost instinctual he reached towards his wrist and untied the worn red neckerchief. Perfect. He tied it around his neck just the way he always liked it. Merlin smiled, the last time he had worn it had been before he had been made a slave. This was the first time he had really felt like himself in ages.

He heard a strangled sound from the other side of the room. Merlin looked up and met the eyes of Gaius, who was staring at the boy with the red neckerchief in shock.

CLIFFIIIEEEEE! IKR I'm so evil! #Sorrynotsorry (I make fun of excesive hashtag users)

So I'v noticed a lot of commentary pertaining to Chaper 3 (Or 4, I can't remember) and how Merlin clearly did not swear anything to Isobel. Well, the explaination to that lies in a little thing I love to call a break line. The break line means that time has been skipped, so there was a point in between when Isobel finished her very threaqtening speech and Merlin being dragged down to the cells where he was held at knife point and made to swear. Because, of course, he didn't know what he was doing. I hope that clears everything up for you.

Okay, I have posted this story on Wattpad as well, but I have left it with only 2 chapter because no one has really paid any attention to it. If you prefer reading fanfics on Wattpad, then tell me and I will update that story as well. Its under the same user so I'm not too hard to find.

Sorry about the long note.

Wisegirl6