Chapter 6

hey y'all, two things. one, thank you all for stay with this story and favoriting it and for all the reviews they make me feel so good and I wanted to say thank you, two, I really didn't like that bobby died so he's still alive and lives in his house but the boy's now live in the bunker. Kk, bye. Enjoy. : ) )

Plane tickets are a pain in the ass. Still, it was necessary. Things didn't only go bump in the night in America. This time, however, it wasn't for a job that she had to come to the UK. If anyone had been there, watching, they would have seen a woman with raven hair stand on the edge of a large, deserted lake for hours, just waiting. Then, if they had stayed long enough, they would see a change in the glassy surface. A ripple. Another ripple. The lake frothed and bubbled. White water covered the banks where she was standing. One minute passed. The lake stops, leaving behind a lone fold in the smooth cloth. All is still. The girl wades into the water, searching for something. Anyone still there would think she was crazy, wadding into a previously frothing lake. Crazy. Until a hand shot out and grabbed on to her's. The arm is strange, clad in chainmail. She pulls the figure back to the shore. Once on land you can see the rest of this strange man. the chainmail spread from his arm to his chest, then under a breastplate. A sword hung loosely by his side. Under the iron links was a drenched red tunic. The man was quite handsome as well. Blonde hair, chiseled chin. He was unconscious. The girl leaned over him, making sure he was alright. Another man, dressed in a black suit, strolled up behind her. He said something and she whirled around, a knife in her hand. He flicked his wrist and she went flying. She collided with a tree and crumpled to the ground. He laughed. More people came and dragged her limp body back to the man. Without glancing at her he studied the man she had saved. A smile spread on his lips. And eirry, evil smile that could only mean one thing. He just got what he needed.

{SPN}

They had been at Bobby's for a week. Merlin was eating like a carnivorous rabbit, barely anything but would eat everything. He never answered any of their questions and never asked anything important. It was routine that every day he would try and run. Every day they caught him. Other than that he did nothing but glare at the three of them. Sometimes things would fall unexpectedly. Sometimes things would move. Only Sam picked up on the fact that every time this happened, Merlin hooded his eyes, hiding them. The only thing strange he did, was ask what day it was every day. Dean, who had decided to be stubborn, said that until the escape attempts stop, he'll never know. The response was an even more intense glare and another sulk. The sulk, however, was not real. If you watched him you could see the wonder and underlying joy in his mannerisms. With that you could also see pain of loss, of having to make hard choices.

"what day is it?" Merlin asked, again.

"you gonna stop trying to escape?" Dean growled

"Nope, can't do that." Merlin replied, trying not to smile. This banter reminded him of his conversations with Arthur. It was a good memory but it still hurt. It was forcing him to relax, to let down his guard. He needed to get out, needed to get back to the lake. He needed to be there when Arthur returned.

"Then I won't tell you." Dean grumbled. What was with this kid, (no matter how old he is, he's still a kid,) most people would be grateful to have someone protect them after being kidnapped by demons. Him, no, he just wants to know what day it is.

"Merlin," sam began, looking up from the book towards the raven who, currently, was lounging on the couch.

"hmm?" He responded looking over his shoulder at the giant.

"why, when we found you, did you have an old bruise covering half of your face? It was too old to have been caused by the demons?" Merlin's face darkened.

"lets just say I have a problem with authority. And it usually gets me in trouble." Merlin replied curtly, incorporation dripping from every word. He did not want to talk about this.

{SPN}

Arthur awoke chained to a wall. He was still in his armor, and chainmail but his sword had been taken. The room was dark, and the only light was red, blood red. The walls were covered in chains and a liquid he knew was blood, water, and other fluids. This same collection of liquids collected in stale pools on the ground. His shoulders, back, and arms ached from holding him up. There was one door, made of metal. It too looked to be red, but that might have just been the light. Scratches and claw marks decorated every wall. He wasn't the first to have been held here. The last thing he remembers was laying in merlin's arms, thanking him for everything. He remembered the sharp pain draining his strength. He remembers falling asleep, faintly hearing someone call his name desperately. He remembers being in that darkness, that nothingness. Something had told him he would be needed again. Something told him he would return.

The door swung open and two men with black eyes walked in, their steps echoing against the walls. Between them they dragged a girl, limp and covered with blood. They walked to the center of the room, dropped her, then retreated back into the corners. Another man, short with stubble covering his cheeks, sauntered into the room after them. His foot steps mingling with the steady drip drip and the clink of rusted chains. The man took his sweet time to stand in front of Arthur. When he finally made it he turned to face him, making eye contact instantly.

"Hello, my name's Crowley. Good to finally meet you." Crowley's voice was deep and coarse yet still had an alluring edge to it. Arthur steeled his eyes, covering any fear that might be hiding there.

"What do you want with me?" He growled, sneering. Crowley was unfazed.

"You are bait for something very special. Something you only come across once in a lifetime." he smiled slightly, amused. Arthur was shocked.

"what?" He croaked, unsure of what to say, he had always been what the people had been after, always. Now to be bait, it was a little unnerving.

"Merlin, you dimwit. I want Merlin. And you're going to get him for me." Merlin? Arthur was even more confused. Who in their right minds would take a servant over a king. Yes, okay, Merlin did have magic, but lots of other people have magic. What makes Merlin so special?

"Why do you want Merlin?" Arthur asked, bewilderment clear on his face.

"Why wouldn't I? He's an Immortal energy source with loyalty to spare and a deficiency for self sacrifice. With the right leverage he'll do anything I ask. And you, " he took another step closer, "are the right leverage." Arthur was about to respond before he was cut off by a sharp bark of laughter. Both men turned to see the girl leaning on the wall, Laughing. She was covered in blood, cuts and bruises. Every now and then she would wince due to a broken bone or two.

"he's not that stupid. He would never give himself over to the king of Hell. I'll make sure of that." Her voice was full of pain and as she spoke, blood spilled from her moving lips. Crowley huffed then walked over to her. He studied her for a moment.

"And who are you?" he finally asked. She smiled.

"some people call me, The Myth but I usually go by Mythri."

"And how, Mythri, did you know about the return of Arthur? Or about Merlin?" Crowley was playing. He just wanted the answer but didn't need it. He knew he'd get it one way or another.

" I learned about both while you had your head up your own ass looking for it. Amazing what you can find out it the light, huh." she taunted, hate evident by the way she spoke. And her words. Crowley huffed,

"You fascinate me, girl, nothing else. Don't think I won't kill you the moment you become boring to me." She glared at him but kept her mouth shut. He smirked then signaled his men to chain her to the wall next to Arthur. She went with little complaint however he wasn't sure if that was from compliance or inability. As the chaos clicked around her wrist she snarled at him in inhuman words hat sounded more like a growl than anything. Crowley just stared at her, perplexed. Arthur was sure he had heard that sound before. Crowley stared for another moment before leaving without another word. Thoughts swirled around in Arthur's mind. All this new information and strong emotions threatened to spill out. Turned my to mythri he said the only thing that could come out.

" are you alright?" Her head swivels just enough to make eye contact with him. Slowly a smirk stretched her lips.

" yeah," she paused ," how about you?"

"I'm fine" he replied earnestly. She studied him for a moment then let her head drop back to her chest. A wet cough forced its way out of her and she winced from pain as blood flew from her lips once more. Once the spasms stopped she sighed and tried to get into a more comfortable position. Arthur, having seen the uneven pupils and the way she seemed to sink into unconciousness imesdiatly knew she had a concussion. Knowing she may not wake up if she does fall asleep he tried to start a conversation.

"Your name is mythri, right?" He asked. She pulled her head up once again to look at him. After a moments contemplation she nodded. Arthur took no time continuing. " Where are you from?" She furrowed her eyebrows then answered.

"All over, but I was born in a small town in the UK." She strained, unsure of her own words. Arthur nodded and continued his questions, knowing this was going to be a hard night.