As a consequence Arthur had not been entirely co-ordinated as he had wanted to be when he went off to do the lecture. He would have much rather stayed with Merlin, who had seemed to have taken just the smallest step forward. The students probably hadn't noticed, but his lecture seemed to lack something because of the distraction. Arthur poured over Merlin's notes again the next day, carefully photocopying the picture before he added it to the file he had started regarding Merlin's treatment. The original he intended to keep for himself.

Over the course of the next ten days, he got four more pictures out of Merlin. Which was when Arthur felt ready to tell someone else, so he told Gaius. Merlin had produced a picture that morning, which Gaius was looking at, along with the others, while Arthur tried to persuade Merlin to produce something else. He wasn't getting very far.

"I'm guessing it's a dragon," Gaius said eventually, looking at the neatly drawn wings and long neck. The dragon's head elegantly raised in the air.

"I thought the same, although I'm a little uncertain as to what he's trying to get at."

"Could be you," Gaius said, peering over his glasses watching Arthur crouched in front of Merlin.

Merlin was sat in the chair by the window of Arthur's consultation room. The sketch pad was on his lap, and Arthur was trying to encourage Merlin to grip the pencil, but his hand remained slack and unresponsive.

"Don't you want to try another, Merlin?" Arthur asked, and then he glanced at Gaius. "What do you mean me?"

"You are a Pendragon, maybe the word has just settled with him," Gaius said.

"I only mentioned my surname once, well also to his mother while she was with him. It could also mean my father. No, you're not going to are you, Merlin?"

Arthur took the pad and pencil away, putting them on the floor and he gently took Merlin's hand.

"Perhaps he doesn't want to do it with me around," Gaius said. "You're the one who has spent most time with him. The rapport is yours."

"What little there is of it," Arthur said.

"I'm sorry," Gaius drawled sarcastically. "At what point did you decide to delude yourself that this would be easy?"

"Point taken," Arthur said.

"The fact that he is willing to do this, even if it is only for you, is a good sign of progress. I think we can begin to rule out neurological problems."

"Not necessarily," Arthur said. "Maybe this is the only way he can translate what's on his mind. What do you make of the other pictures?"

"I'm not entirely certain of this one," Gaius said, holding the relevant picture up. Arthur nodded.

"I've been guessing it's a landscape, but it's hard to work out, it looks distorted."

"It could be it was when Merlin saw it, plus if it's a memory it might not be clear in his mind. These three others are quite similar, is that some kind of old fashioned stove he's drawing?"

"That was my conclusion. I did a bit of a web search for something similar to it but I didn't really get anywhere. Certainly not as to where it might actually be located. The only conclusion I can come to is it being part of something where Merlin was held."

"Could be the scenery is the same thing," Gaius said. "Which would make this one a little anomalous."

Gaius held up the drawing of the dragon. "This one is also a lot clearer, as if he's seeing this better in his mind. So I'd conclude this has no connection with these three of the stove and the landscape. He drew the dragon this morning?"

"Yeah, I'm hoping that perhaps his mother could shed some light on them."

"She's coming in this afternoon, isn't she?"

Arthur nodded. "She phoned yesterday and spoke to Gwen to check up on him, and ask if it was all right to come in. I'm presuming Will isn't coming this time. Gwen told her she didn't need to phone in advance."

Gaius nodded, his gaze drifting back to the pictures.

"If you want to know if these are anything to do with what happened to him, you have no option but to speak to your father. He'll know what was at the scene."

"Unfortunately, yes," Arthur said. "But I don't want to put that kind of pressure on Merlin. If my father starts taking an interest he might just end up pushing Merlin back. And that oil seems to be working on his scars," Arthur added as he eased Merlin's sleeve up. This time Arthur didn't feel any tension in Merlin as he examined the damage. Arthur glanced up at Merlin, whose eyes were fixed on the nearby shelves.

"I don't suppose you could ask anyone else," Gaius suggested.

"Running it past Morgana might be an option, she would be the next in line to go to, but then again, she may feel it's necessary to tell dad, and again, I don't want too much interference from him. Gwaine might be easier to deal with but again, he answers to my father, and Morgana."

"You will have to tell them at some point."

"Hopefully not for the time being. I know my father wants some kind of clear proof from Merlin, but he's not able to really do that. All we are getting at the moment are threads of things in his mind."

"One thing in particular Arthur, this picture. He's drawn this object three times, whatever it means, it is of significance. You probably need to try and encourage him to expand on that particular thing."

Arthur nodded, his eyes fixed on Merlin. He looked better now, he had put on weight, his hair was regaining some shine and his skin looked brighter. It was just trying to reach his mind that was proving difficult.

Arthur just couldn't figure out what Merlin was trying to tell him. He needed to speak to someone who knew him.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Alice made sure that Arthur's afternoon had a clear spot so he had time to head up to Merlin's room to speak to Hunith. She and Merlin were settled in a similar way to the last time she had visited, with Merlin in the comfortable chair by the window and Hunith had moved the other chair close to him, so she could hold his hand, one of his gathered up in both of hers. She was chatting away, telling him about the house, and Will, and their attempts to wallpaper the hallway. There was a sliver of desperation to her voice, as she just kept talking in the hope that Merlin would give some reaction. If he didn't do it for any other reason, Arthur wanted to tell her about Merlin's drawings just to reassure her that Merlin was still in there.

"I've brought you some tea," Arthur said as he knocked on the doorframe. Hunith looked up and smiled. Arthur had a tray with two cups and a carton of pineapple juice. He put it down on the dressing table and handed Hunith her cup and jammed the straw into the top of the carton.

"I'll do that," Hunith said. Arthur passed it over without a word and watched as Hunith got the straw into Merlin's mouth. He automatically started to suck for a few seconds, paused and then drank again. Then he stopped.

"I see you got pineapple," she said removing the straw from Merlin's mouth.

"Yeah, well if we know there's a preference then we try to cater for it."

"Has he been all right?"

"He's eating fine, physically he's healthy."

"It's just his mind," Hunith said sadly gently brushing her fingers through Merlin's hair.

"Can I ask…" Arthur started, sitting himself down on the end of the bed. Hunith paused fiddling and turned to look at him. "… did Merlin do any sort of art? As a hobby, or anything like that?"

"Quite a bit, he always liked to draw, and he had piano lessons every week. He was always drawing cartoons when he was little. One of our neighbours has a piano so Merlin does jobs for her in return for borrowing her piano to practice. I think she'd just actually let him without him helping her out but Merlin thinks he ought to do something."

Arthur nodded, and reaching over picked up the sketch pad that he had brought up with him on the tray.

"I haven't told anyone but Gaius about this, but Merlin started the middle of last week. I draw a bit myself and I was sat with him in the grounds when he did this."

Arthur handed her the first picture, Hunith's eyes widened in shock as she stared at it. She looked up at Arthur in amazement.

"Merlin did this?"

"There wasn't any other reaction," Arthur said, not wanting to get her hopes up too high. "But his hand just started moving. I wasn't sure if it was a response to what I was doing. But he's done these as well when I put the pencil in his hand. He hasn't responded every time I've tried. This thing here he's drawn three times, do you have any idea what it means?"

Arthur held out the other two similar pictures. Hunith fanned out the three sheets of paper, putting them in her lap to assess them. Her brow furrowed as she stared at the strange squat object that her son had drawn. Very slowly she shook her head.

"It's not anything I've seen before, what is it? Some kind of stove or…" she trailed off and lifted a sheet up to assess the picture.

"We think so, something old fashioned, but we're not sure what it means," Arthur said. "Then there were these two. Again, I've got no idea what he's trying to say. That one he did yesterday morning."

He put the picture of the dragon on top of the small pile. Hunith blinked, sitting back in the chair and her face brightened.

"That's Kilgharrah!"

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked.

Hunith looked up at him, a smile now lighting up her face. "It's an old toy that Merlin has. I'm not entirely certain how he came up with the name, but I bought it for Merlin one Christmas. He saw in the shop two or so months before, he just stared at it for ages. I think he fell in love with it the moment he saw it. He was only five at the time. I couldn't really afford it, money wasn't that plentiful but I managed to persuade the shop manager to hold onto it for me, and just kept bringing in the money in instalments, so I managed to get it for him. I think I paid the last of it off in January, but the shopkeeper let me have it for Christmas."

Arthur smiled. It wasn't a situation he was entirely familiar with. Both of his parents were well off financially, their respective families leaving each of them with enough inheritance to keep themselves without having to worry too much. Plus his father's career meant that he could certainly provide for his family. He didn't comment; he just listened to Hunith talk.

"Merlin was so happy with it, he hasn't ever parted with it. If we ever have a clear out, we sometimes take things to car boot sales and things like that, he'd never even consider getting rid of it. It's his most prized possession."

"He drew it yesterday," Arthur said, reading the notes he had made at the bottom of the sheet, the date and time written on there so he could refer back when he needed to. "It was after I told him you'd phoned and that you were going to come tomorrow."

Hunith nodded and looked around the room. It was neat and tidy, furnished well enough, but aside from the clothes in the wardrobe, there wasn't much of it that belonged to Merlin.

"I could bring it for him, next time, if that's all right?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, of course, just bring anything you think he might need, or want. The other residents do the same. If that's the case, then it means he is listening to us, if he wanted you to bring it."

Both of them looked at Merlin. Arthur glanced at his right hand, but it wasn't moving. There was usually a flicker of something before Arthur tried to put the pencil in his hand, but now Merlin was relaxed, his body in it's usual compliant state. He had said what he wanted to say for now. Hunith smiled, holding Merlin's hand again as Arthur retrieved the pictures and stacked them in a pile, then producing a pencil he wrote, 'Kilgharrah, Merlin's favourite toy' at the bottom of the picture of the dragon.

"Is that right Merlin, you want me to bring Kilgharrah?" Hunith asked.

Arthur watched, for any sign of tension, just even the slightest flicker, but Merlin gave nothing, but Arthur felt that Merlin was content with what he had achieved, if he got his favourite toy.

"So, Merlin's into that sort of thing is he? Dragons and creatures."

"Yeah, he was always reading about myths and legends, all the sort of Greek stories and things like that. Most of his cartoons he drew were based on things like that."

"Does he still have them?" Arthur asked. Hunith frowned.

"A few I think, but I think Will has most of them. I could ask him for them."

Arthur shook his head, "no, that's all right, Will probably wants to hold onto them. I'm surprised he didn't take Kilgharrah then."

"Oh no, he wouldn't do that, even when they were children Will knew better than to be over zealous with that toy. He was always a bit brutal with his own things but if they played with the dragon, they were always careful. I don't think I ever topped that present. It was the only one I could afford that year, I made do with chocolate to make up for it. Not that Merlin minded."

Arthur smiled. "I have discovered the fondness of chocolates. Some of the patients bring in things like that, especially Freya, I haven't ever plucked up the courage to tell anyone I don't like them. My mother always knows when someone has made progress because I always take them for her. Although I gave the last lot to Merlin, he seemed very disappointed when he got to the last one."

"I have no idea where he puts it all," Hunith said.

"On that score I didn't think a few chocolates would do Merlin any harm. He has put on a little weight."

"He is looking better, I don't think they really gave him much attention at the hospital."

"We aren't as stretched as they are, although keeping things calm and quiet here is part of the recovery."

"Yes, I'm glad your father recommended you."

Arthur smiled, and then frowned, glancing at Merlin and then looked back to Hunith.

"Can I ask about Merlin's father?"

"Oh!" Hunith said in surprise. "Yes, well, there isn't really a great deal to tell. We were only together a very short time, eighteen months or so."

"By modern standards that's not too bad," Arthur mused.

"He never even knew I was pregnant. When he left I didn't know I was pregnant, and I had no way to tell him."

"If you don't mind my being rather personal, what happened, why did he leave?"

"It's not that personal, I think he was in some sort of trouble, he never really talked about his past, actually he avoided it. Then one day he just disappeared, he left me a letter saying he had to go and it was best that I didn't know where. I did talk to the police, made enquires about missing persons, but it never came to anything. Then a few weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant. That was it really."

"You never tried to find him?"

Hunith shook her head, "I didn't know where to start, and I had my hands full with Merlin. At the time I had a job cleaning houses, nobody ever seemed to mind if I brought Merlin with me, he was such a happy little boy. He stayed like that."

"He sounds better than I was. From the way my mother talks sometimes I was quite a horrible child. Did Merlin never want to go to university or anything?"

Hunith shook her head. "Again it was just money, he was always trying to earn money to help me out, so he took all those jobs, just anything he could find. He didn't really need to, and I wish he hadn't. That was how that man found him; he trawled cafes and shops looking for what he wanted. And he found Merlin."

Arthur nodded. "I read some of that."

"I went to some of the trial, I couldn't stand it all, but just listening to what he had done, it was awful."

"It couldn't have been easy," Arthur said. "I don't think I could have sat there."

"I had to," Hunith said determination seeping into her voice. "For Merlin."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Sunday night, Arthur couldn't sleep. His mother had sensed his distracted feelings all day, but aside from asking him several times if he was all right, she left it alone. Arthur knew he needed to tell his father something, for Merlin's sake if nothing else. But he had to do it in a way that would keep his father away from Merlin. He didn't think Uther would really push the issue, but he did like getting results. So did Arthur, but he had more patience. It was clearly a trait that he had inherited from his mother.

Tomorrow was a fresh morning. He could phone his father, inform him, and also try and encourage his father to keep his distance for the time being. Maybe he should phone Morgana, she could put it to Uther in practical terms.

Arthur had to admit he was a little frustrated. Merlin hadn't drawn anything else since his sketch of Kilgharrah, and Hunith had brought the plastic dragon in the next day, so it now sat on the dressing table in Merlin's room. The scales along the toy's flank were worn, his colour fading in patches where he had been held while Merlin played with him. Arthur had noticed that Merlin's eyes, although still vacant, were often trained in the direction of the dragon. Arthur had tried using it to get a response from Merlin, but Merlin just seemed content to have it there as something to look at. That again brought Arthur back to the three drawings of one object. Was Merlin trying to drive that image away with an item that held good memories?

If only he had a way of finding out.

He was so deep in through that he didn't even hear the phone for a moment. It rang in it's usual way, and loudly. He liked the phone to make an actual ringing sound, and Elena had found one that sounded like an old-fashioned style phone. Arthur liked it, it meant he heard it. This time he didn't until it was too late, it rang off and presumably went to his voicemail. Arthur fumbled for it on the bedside cabinet and flipped it open registering the fact that it was almost four in the morning. Then he started to flip through to find out who the hell had called him at such an obscene time.

In the room next door he could hear the familiar creak of the bed and floorboards as his mother got up. She had heard the phone, and his failure to react to it. Arthur almost got as far as the call logs before whoever it was tried again, not having the patience to leave a message.

Lancelot's name flashed up on the little screen and Arthur answered it before it had a chance to make any further noise.

"What's up?"

There was no other reason for Lancelot to be ringing him, other than an emergency. Arthur wasn't on call tonight, Nimueh was, so there was only one possible reason that Lancelot would bypass her to talk to Arthur.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Igraine asked as she opened the door. "You're not on call."

Arthur held up his hand and tuned her out, as Lancelot's breathless, slightly panicked tone filled his head.

"Sorry Arthur, I have no idea what to do, Merlin is going crazy."

Arthur had already got out of bed at the apology, by Merlin's name he was half dressed.

"What do you mean crazy?" Arthur demanded, but the background noise was already giving him a hint.

"He is screaming the place down. He kicked off about ten minutes ago, probably not even that. Normally we'd sedate in an incident like this, but we haven't been giving him any meds because of that panic he had about the drip they tried to give him in intensive care. Do I just dose him or what?"

Arthur was stumbling to the door, yanking on his coat as he went, struggling to find his trainers. Igraine retrieved them and handed them to him without a word.

"Is he all right, aside from the screaming?" Arthur said, shooting his mother an apologetic look, while attempting to hold the phone and jam his feet into his shoes.

"He's flailing a little, but Elena's got hold of him, I'm going to have to give her a hand in a minute, what do we do with him?"

"Keep hold of him and hang on, I'm on my way."

Arthur hung up and hugged his mother. "Sorry mum, emergency, got to go. I'll call you when the hour gets reasonable."

"Drive carefully!" she yelled at him as he ran down the stairs, a moment later he thundered back up swearing under his breath, he grabbed something from his room, ran past Igraine, pausing to kiss her on the cheek and then tore off again.

His car might not have been grown up, but when Arthur put his foot down it always obliged him and got a move on. He probably didn't drive as carefully as Igraine would have liked, but he got to the Camelot annexe in fifteen minutes, and one piece, and went tearing in. As he started up the stairs, he could hear Merlin, who sounded terrified.

The rest of the residents had been woken. Fortunately there were only seven of them and Elena was carefully calming them down as Arthur ran past them, fell into Merlin's room and stopped dead. Lancelot had him pinned to the bed, and didn't have any trouble holding him. He was well-muscled and fit. Merlin didn't have the strength, or co-ordination to fight him. It didn't look like that was what he was doing anyway. Merlin looked to be struggling against something that no one else could see. Lancelot wasn't even in the equation.

Arthur went to the bed and gently took Merlin's shoulders, lifting him and making Lancelot relinquish his hold. Arthur sat Merlin up and pulled him tightly to his side. Merlin shrieked again, almost directly into his ear. His body was rigid with tension.

"Damn! I'm on the wrong side!" Arthur snapped, shifting Merlin on the bed, and putting himself on Merlin's left side, Merlin needed his right free.

"Pass me that!" Arthur ordered once he had organised himself and Merlin, pinning the lighter man to his side, so he couldn't hurt himself. Confused Lancelot did as he was told and gave Arthur the sketch pad, Arthur flipped it open to a clean page and waved frantically for Lancelot to give him the pencil.

"Come on!" he snapped. Lancelot got it to him and Arthur pressed it into Merlin's hand, getting it to the paper. For a moment Merlin did nothing, he gripped the pencil, and just carried on screaming. His eyes were wide with shock and fear, but they remained unseeing of anything in the room. Whatever was unsettling him was nothing within the vicinity. Arthur clung onto him and kept Merlin's right hand in place, over the sheet of paper.

"Come on, Merlin just tell me what it is, as best you can," Arthur told him. "Whatever you can see, it's not here, you're safe with me, but you need to tell me."

Merlin's hand moved in his grip and Arthur let him go. As Merlin started to draw he screamed for a while longer, then it reduced itself to whimpers, tears had started to roll down his face, but his hand kept moving. Arthur held Merlin, wrapping an arm around him, using his body to keep Merlin's left arm under control, and he talked gently, trying to calm him down while encouraging him to keep drawing. Lancelot watched the proceedings from the end of the bed. Elena stood in the doorway her eyes as wide as saucers.

Arthur glanced down, trying to see what was forming on the page, but Merlin's fast moving hand made it almost impossible to see. Lancelot shifted on the bed, tilting his head as he looked at the paper.

Everyone stayed absolutely still, the only thing moving was Merlin's hand, now he had started he seemed determined to keep going. Arthur kept his tone low and reassuring, but continually drove Merlin on, trying to keep him going to get a clear enough picture of what had set him off.

"What is that?" Lancelot asked, still trying to see. Arthur stopped looking, he'd have time to assess it once Merlin was done. Elena disappeared again, shooing the rest of the residents to bed, assuring them that everything was fine, and that Arthur would deal with it. Arthur was vaguely aware of someone crying. He caught a glimpse of two blonde heads as Elena led Vivian away talking to her in a similar soothing fashion to the one that Arthur was using on Merlin.

After a few minutes Merlin's hand started to lose momentum, the drawing almost complete. Lancelot watched in fascination.

"How did you know he'd do that?" he asked Arthur in a whisper.

"I couldn't be certain, but he started this a couple of weeks ago, drawing things. That day I was out in the garden with him and I was sketching."

"Does anyone else know?" Lancelot asked in a mildly accusing fashion.

"Gaius and Hunith. I didn't want to say too much because I'm not sure quite what to make of it yet."

"Maybe it's what caused this," Lancelot said. "Which might not be bad!" he added in a hurried stage whisper.

Arthur didn't answer, Merlin's hand was slowing and his breathing, although still heavy, had reduced itself to gasps, with the occasional hiccup. Arthur kept a tight hold of him, but he could feel the tension in Merlin's body slowly draining away and he slumped, as if exhausted. Merlin's face was now damp with tears, Arthur brought a hand up and touched his face.

"Christ he's burning."

Lancelot reached out and touched Merlin's neck gently. There was another strangled whimper from the now unmoving patient. Lancelot retracted his hand and nodded.

"Shall I get him a drink or something?"

Arthur nodded, reaching up to smooth Merlin's now sweat-damp hair off his forehead.

"Gaius has that sleeping tonic lying around somewhere, could be an idea to put a little bit of that into it."

Lancelot nodded. It was the simplest way to get medication into Merlin, sneaking it into his drinks. He never seemed to complain about it, always just drinking as much as he wanted when it was offered. Arthur hugged Merlin tightly.

"It's all right Merlin, you're safe, okay, you're still in the hospital, I'm with you."

Arthur didn't know if that was reassuring but it was the best he could offer, until Elena came tiptoeing back in.

"Viv's all right, just scared the hell out of her I think. What did he draw?"

Arthur had lifted the pad of paper to assess what Merlin had done. He swallowed dryly and looked at the sketch, and Arthur stomach churned. The drawing was clear, the figure in it huddled down, but what Arthur could see of the face showed fear. The hair was curly, so Merlin was not the subject of the drawing. On the right side was a dark shadow. It was most definitely human, but portrayed as something nightmarish. The dark figure was looming over the boy, knife held in one hard hand, and the rough lines and shading spreading out from the boy's figure was clearly meant to be blood. Elena took a deep gasp as Arthur showed it to her briefly. It might have been very swiftly drawn, but the image was clear, and probably was so in Merlin's mind.

Merlin's breathing remained heavy, and a little ragged, Arthur could feel it against his cheek as he held Merlin so tightly, not sure what else to do with him. Merlin's body had relaxed again, the nervous tension had gone. Merlin had clearly over-reached himself.

"It must have been a nightmare of some kind."

"He had no problem expressing it," Elena said.

"Could just be his subconscious? He won't have as much control over that. Shit!" Lancelot murmured as he glanced at the picture. Arthur had his hands full holding Merlin so Lancelot eased the straw into Merlin's mouth. His teeth clenched, resisting the attempt for the first time ever.

"Merlin, come on, it's just a drink, you need something after that," Arthur said. "It's just some juice."

He seemed to accept that and his jaw relaxed, Lancelot got the straw in and after a moment Merlin drank some. Arthur gently touched Merlin's cheek again, causing him to pause, but then after a moment Merlin carried on drinking.

"His skin doesn't feel as hot now," he mused.

"I brought the thermometer," Lancelot said helpfully. Arthur took it and with some careful manoeuvring eased it into Merlin's ear to check his temperature. The machine gave a beep and Arthur glanced at the reading.

"It's a couple of degrees high but nothing strange," Arthur said. Merlin finished drinking and Lancelot got up to put the cup down on the dressing table. Arthur started to move Merlin, putting him back into the bed. Merlin didn't resist but he whimpered again.

"I'm going to stay with you, Merlin," Arthur said. "Okay, I'm not going to leave you."

Merlin blinked slowly as Arthur settled him down, Elena shifting the blankets to help get Merlin settled, laying him on his side Merlin blinked again. Arthur looked up and waved in the direction of the dressing table.

"Get Kilgharrah, let's put him where Merlin can see him."

Lancelot nodded, picking up the dragon carefully. It amazed Arthur that the damn thing, after three days of occupying Merlin's room, seemed to have developed such a personality. Everyone referred to it by name, and always treated it carefully. Lancelot shifted a few things off the nightstand and put Kilgharrah down, setting him in the general area where Merlin's eyes appeared to be looking. It was sometimes hard to tell. He moved the dragon's back limbs so he was steadier and folded the wings upwards carefully. They were jointed where they met the dragon's back, and halfway along, so he could be positioned to be flying. Arthur wondered if he had ever owned a similar toy. If he had, it didn't stick in his mind. Arthur crouched by the side of the bed, looking at Merlin's lack of expression. His face had recomposed itself to his usual relaxed expression, but his eyes fixed on the dragon, spoke of something akin to desperation.