AN: I took some creative liberty in this piece of fan fiction, just to warn you. I do still hope you enjoy this, and let me know what you think. Enjoy reading and thank you so much for your patience!

Morgana woke with a sharp gasp as she bolted upwards. Merlin did not know who he was? How was that possible? Even she knew, at long last, he was Emrys. How could he not know? It made no sense. It also presented a major problem. How would she get her revenge on Merlin, if he did not even remember her? It would not be as sweet, if he did not remember why he deserved such retribution. No, she would have to fix this, but she really did not know how, except… maybe she could send him a dream. It was very difficult magic, but it seemed like it was the only way. Of course, he would be treated as though he was insane, but she was more than happy with that. Merlin would be completely friendless, loveless, and without all those he cared about, just like she was. He was going to know what kind of pain, she endured! He was going to know the pain of complete betrayal.

She closed her eyes tightly. He was going to know how bad it hurt years ago, when he poisoned her. He was going to know how much hatred she felt towards him for trying to save Uther. He was going to know what pain couldn't be healed by his petty magic. She was going to be absolutely certain that he regretted his decision so many years ago. He would pay.

She whispered a dark complicated language underneath her breath. Sending someone a nightmare or dream was extremely difficult; only those who were in the highest degree of the High Priestesses, could attempt such a feat. Luckily, Morgana knew that she was one of the highest, as she was the last of the great sorceresses; Merlin and Arthur had made sure of that.

She smiled as she sent specific images, moments, memories that she wanted Merlin to remember. Since he was unconscious, she thought now, Martin or Merlin could most definitely use a very life changing dream.

A young woman, with black hair, and frightened green eyes, frantically tore at the gray fabric. A boy in a light brown leather jacket had his back turned to the girl. He seemed very conflicted. His pale face was caked in sweat and he looked exhausted. He turned around and stared at the young woman. He held up a flask, towards her.

"Here. Have some water," he pressed gently.

The young woman shook her head, "I am not thirsty."

The boy's face grew desperate, as though he needed her to drink the water.

"If we get out of here, you may not get another chance to drink," the man tried to reason.

The girl rolled her eyes, her voice full of scorn, "If we get out of here."

There was a distant shouting in the background, and the boy stood up quickly. He handed the young woman the flask, and walked over to the locked door. The girl set down the flask, and went back to ripping the fabric.

The boy walked back over, picked up the flask, and pretended to take a sip, of the water, his back turned to the girl.

He turned around to give the girl the flask.

"Here," he whispered gently.

"I'm fine," the young woman insisted.

"No, you have some before I finish it," the man pressed.

The woman looked up at him, and finally caved. She smiled, gave a sigh of relief, and took the flask.

"Thank you," she whispered.

The boy looked at the doors, as she unscrewed the flask. She drank from it slowly. After she finished she handed the flask back to the boy, and began to work on the fabric again. The young man turned his back on the girl, fighting tears. The girl coughed, and then began to wheeze. She began to look frightened, as she grabbed her throat. She looked up at the young man's back in disbelief, and then down at the flask. The young man turned around to the girl, his face grim. The girl began to gasp, staring at the man in horror. He turned completely around and gave a slow nod. The girl gasped, looking as though she was going to cry, if she could. The young man crouched down and tried to gently touch the girl's shoulders. She began to thrash, trying to push him away. He had betrayed her, and she knew it. Her gasping became more desperate, and she clutched his shoulders, trying to breathe again. She collapsed onto the ground, giving way into his arms. He wrapped an arm around her, as she continued to gasp for breath. The boy looked up at the sky, on his knees, holding the gasping girl. He seemed to be silently pleading for this all to stop, to let it be done. He looked so unwilling to do this, but finally the girl stilled in his arms.

There was a bright flash, and another image appeared.

A woman in a red dress with long black curls walked calmly into a room, until she saw a still figure on the ground.

"NO! NO!" she screamed, running at the figure.

A man with black hair, and blue eyes panted heavily watching reaction.

The woman fell to her knees, sobbing. She lifted the blond woman onto her knees.

"Sister?" she questioned.

The tired man looked over nervously at an older gentleman, and then back to the woman. The woman began to sob hard, touching her sister's face gently.

"It is over, Morgana," the man spoke firmly.

The woman looked up slowly at the man, her green eyes full of anger. She took a sharp breath as she glared.

"No, you're wrong," she growled, "this has just begun!"

Martin gasped as he sat up.

"Martin!" Alex smiled.

Martin looked around the room, startled to find he was in Alex's bedroom, actually in Alex's bed. Alex stopped his pacing, and walked over to Martin.

"How do you feel?" he pressed.

Martin groaned, holding his head, "I feel like…"

Alex frowned as he stopped, "Martin what is it?"

"I… know who… Arthur, you are Arthur. And Guinevere, and…Freya," Martin whispered softly.

Alex looked at Martin, confused, "Martin, do you need, well, a doctor? You hit your head pretty good."

Martin sat up, despite Alex's protesting, "No, don't."

"Why am I in your room?" Martin questioned.

Alex chuckled, "Jennifer, insisted. She is quite worried about you."

"How long have I been out?" Martin questioned.

"A day," Alex admitted, "We, weren't sure what to do, to help you. So I took a day off work, and stayed here. In case we needed to call 911 or… or something."

"You took a day off work?" Martin gasped.

"Yeah, everyone thought I was unwell when I said I was going to take a day off…" Alex smiled, "If I keep doing that, they are going to think a clone replaced me or something."

Martin laughed, "Probably."

Martin sat there for a minute, trying to puzzle everything together. Alex was Arthur. So Jen must have been Gwen. His wife, was Freya, who was… cursed. Somehow they had found a way. He had fled to the future, with those four, from Morgana. Gaius... he was dead, well everyone was, they were in the future now. Martin shook his head, he had really messed with more magic this time than he should have. No one remembered, except for him, which wasn't exactly helpful.

"Is something wrong?" Alex frowned.

Martin looked over at Alex, "I do not have a concussion."

Alex sighed in relief, "That is good."

"But I need to tell you something. Something that will sound absolutely crazy, and you're probably are not going to believe me. I am going to need you to try."

Alex scowled, but gave a single nod of approval.

Martin took a deep breath, "I know who took my daughter. I know where she is at."

Alex jumped to his feet, "That is great! Where is she?! How do you know this?"

Martin chuckled, softly, "Just trust me. I know where she is."

"Where? What do we do?" Alex asked, getting more excited.

"Arthur," Martin took a deep breath, "We need to go back… to Camelot."

AN: So what did you think?

I am so sorry I took forever to get this to you. It turns out recovering from getting your Wisdom Teeth pulled, is not fun. However, I am back, and I hope to post more regularly now. :) Enjoy, and please, please let me know what you think of this! I love feedback, like any writer. :)