As soon as Merlin had closed his eyes, the magic taking him out of his own mind and into Gwaine's, the boy had gone rigid, clutching the sides of the chair and screwing his eyes shut, and just hadn't moved.

He was like this for some hours. Gaius lost exact track of time, but it was long enough for him to recall his own venture into this kind of magic—and its tragic failure—which he could just as well have done without remembering—and long enough for him to grow concerned.

Dawn was just beginning to break when Gwaine stirred.

Gaius approached the bed. He touched Merlin, who was cold and still unmoving. Gwaine whimpered and shifted, his brow creased in a deep frown.

But his brow was cooler.

This was promising! Perhaps Merlin had had some success, although Gwaine's ever more active struggles seemed to indicate he was in a great deal of pain. This made sense, as the last draught for pain had been given to him well over twelve hours ago, when he was last conscious enough to swallow a bit of liquid. Gaius quickly set about making a new one, though he had to give it up in favor of restraining Gwaine as the knight almost sat up in bed.

"There, there, now, Gwaine," he encouraged, holding Gwaine down gently at the shoulder. "It's all right."

Gwaine cried out now, and clutched at his stomach. Fearing the worst, Gaius turned down the blankets to find that one of the wounds had burst again—probably at Gwaine's eagerness to sit up—and was soaking through the bandages. He made short work of removing the old bandages and adding a poultice, noting positively that at least the blood ran clean and the worst of the infection appeared to be clearing up, but between holding Gwaine down and flashing worried glances at Merlin (who still had yet to move), the situation was becoming more than he could handle. He wondered briefly what would happen to Merlin if Gwaine died while Merlin was dreamwalking in his mind, but quickly halted this line of thought because it was doing him no good except to upset him.

But when Merlin still didn't wake, the thought kept creeping up on him.

Gaius was startled when he looked over and saw, now, that Gwaine's eyes were open. They shone glassy, and he appeared confused, was blinking rapidly. He shifted weakly, and noise still issued from somewhere deep in his chest which might have been a garbled attempt at speech.

"There you are, Gwaine," Gaius said, trying to smile, trying to pin down Gwaine's prying hands that were getting in his way. "Lie still now. How are you feeling?"

"Blech," Gwaine said, but whether that was an answer or not, Gaius couldn't tell. But the very next word out of his patient's mouth made it clear that he had reclaimed agency over his tongue: "M'rlin?"

"He's here," Gaius lied, trying to block the knight's view of the warlock, but the panic that arose in Gwaine's breast at the sight of Merlin, still unconscious, still tensed, still not actually "here," was tangible.

"Why hasn'e woke up?" he demanded, words still slurred, panic working his body as he tried, pathetically, to rise, despite Gaius' suggestions to the contrary.

"I don't know," Gaius admitted. The situation was clearly getting out of hand. "But you need to lie still before—"

With a suddenness that startled them both, Merlin was awake, gasping air like he had never tasted it before and looking around wildly. Gaius flinched, wanting to go to him but afraid to leave Gwaine, who sagged back to the pillow in relief upon seeing Merlin conscious.

"Merlin?" Gaius asked, trying to be in two places at once. "Merlin, are you all right?"

Merlin nodded, far too many times than was necessary. "Yeah…yeah'm a'right," he mumbled, shaking his head as if to rattle things back into some semblance of order. "Gwaine!" he lurched to his feet, only to collapse at the bedside, making it only half a step.

"Merlin!"

Gaius was exasperated, absolutely done dealing with stupid children trying to kill themselves, and Merlin, sensing the gravity of his tone, looked up sheepishly. "Sit! Still!" he ordered, before rounding on Gwaine. "And you, Gwaine, lie still," he demanded.

Both boys obeyed.

"Thank you," he said. "Here, Merlin, put pressure on this, just here," Gaius said, returning with more bandages. With a docile Gwaine and with Merlin's help, the redressing of the wound was done quickly. Gwaine's eyes were closing. "Wake up, Gwaine," Gaius said softly, "just a bit, here, have some water." He lifted up Gwaine's head, and trickled a bit of water to his lips until Gwaine lifted his head on his own and gulped greedily. "There we are, good lad," Gaius encouraged before laying him back flat.

It didn't look as though the knight would need the sleeping draught after all, because Gwaine was asleep within minutes.

"And as for you, young man—" Gaius took Merlin by the arm gently and stood him up.

"Nnnoooo…have to stay with…Gwaine…" he protested, but then suddenly he was in his bed, which he had almost forgotten the feel of, and was presently asleep.

…

Gwaine woke to a beam of sunlight in his eyes.

And quiet.

Gwaine was strangely okay with this. In the confusion between waking and sleeping, where he couldn't really recall where he was or why he hurt or how long he had slept or what he last remembered, the only thing he was certain of, somehow, was safety.

This was a foreign sensation, and he took the time to enjoy it. It helped that his mind was slow and tired. Even though he as yet knew nothing about his surroundings (except that sunshine and silence were involved), Gwaine knew he was safe. That was nice.

The physical sensation that accosted him most was hunger, which pained his stomach greatly. This of course triggered the question when he had eaten last, and the realization that the pain in his stomach wasn't just from hunger, and the reminder that he had almost died.

It wasn't quite silent, though, because he heard snoring. Gwaine was sure he heard it now: the sound of someone sleeping, very nearby.

He forced his eyes open, feeling as though this small movement took all his strength until he was almost ready for a nap again. Once he had blinked away most of the sweat stickiness and general sleep from his eyes, he was able to note a few things:

He was in the apothecary, still. So, not well enough to be released to his chambers yet. Perhaps he hadn't been out of it that long?

The sun was definitely shining. It was late morning. It had stopped raining.

And Merlin was sleeping at Gwaine's bedside. He was sat on the floor, half-draped over the bed near Gwaine's hip, his head and arms slumped to the side in what looked like unintended sleep. At least, he hoped Merlin was smart enough to sleep in a bed if he was tired.

Then again…

Gwaine tested his arms and legs, finding himself grinning inanely at the simple pleasure of feeling all his limbs more or less intact. With an effort, he managed to lift his arm and rest his hand atop Merlin's dark hair, and patted it gently.

Maybe the weight of his own hand was too much, though—his wrist was bandaged up in something heavy, he noticed, and perhaps hard as well—because almost immediately Merlin groaned, shifted, and then his head popped upright.

"Gwaine?" Merlin said, blinking sleep rapidly from his eyes and scrabbling upright. "Gwaine, how are you feeling?" He sat on the bed and touched the side of Gwaine's face as if he didn't believe he was real. "You with me?"

"With? What? Where?" was all Gwaine's addled brain could come up with, but even this was more than his tongue could manage, and it came out garbled. "Nngh," he added, frowned, and coughed, trying to clear his throat and figure out which way his tongue went. He also tried to lift his head, but Merlin held him down.

"Easy, Gwaine, no need for heroics yet," Merlin said, gently, smiling.

Gwaine melted back into the bed, resigned. He let Merlin rearrange his limbs and didn't even mind so much when Merlin lifted his head to give him a few sips of water.

"Beginning to see—" Gwaine tried, but his voice was whisper-squeaky and uncooperative. But he tried again, coughing and lowering his register: "Beginning to see a pattern, here," he finally managed.

"What's that?" Merlin asked patiently, feeling very much as though he'd just responded, "who's there?" to a "knock-knock," and not caring, actually marveling at the giddy feeling it stirred in him if it meant that Gwaine was feeling well enough to be back to his usual tricks.

"Every time I rescue you and the Princess from certain death I end up in your bed," Gwaine winked. The wicked grin was there, if faint and sloppy. But he was clearly trying, so Merlin laughed.

"Sorry about that," he grinned.

"Y'should be," he slurred, his tongue exhausted from its previous efforts. "Dump me in—in one of the rooms above the pub next time. Sure I'd be much better looked after," Gwaine went on, his eyelids blinking closed slowly.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Wine and women are the last things you need right now, Gwaine."

"Nahh, like mother's milk to me," Gwaine drawled out, too easily, before stopping dead, his eyes snapping open and looking at Merlin guiltily.

Merlin looked back at him, wounded, his brows knitted together. There was a time where that would have been funny. After all Merlin had seen—so it wasn't just part of the horrible dreams, then, as Gwaine had dared to hope—it was just awkward.

And sad….

Gwaine frowned at the tragic look Merlin gave him. He sighed, braced himself for The Talk. "Too soon, huh?"

Merlin pouted. The awkward silence stretched. "Gwaine, why didn't you tell me?..." he began, pleading.

Gwaine fixed him with as withering of a stare as he could manage. "Don't give me that, Merlin. I didn't tell you because I don't want to talk about it. Any of it." He glared before deciding to add, "Because it hurts, okay?"

Merlin wasn't letting this one go. "But it's better now, isn't it?" he demanded, and Gwaine shut his mouth. "Now that I know? You have to deal with your past sometime, Gwaine. You don't have to hide from it anymore, none of any of it was your fault!"

Gwaine was just shaking his head, slightly, too weak to bother arguing, so Merlin stopped: Gwaine wasn't fighting him on it, but he certainly wasn't listening, either.

"We all keep secrets, Merlin," Gwaine said, after a minute, breaking the heavy silence.

Merlin stiffened. "Oh," he said, looking uncomfortable. So Gwaine did remember everything, then.

But Gwaine hadn't meant to put Merlin on the defensive.

"And that's okay," he added. "We keep secrets for reasons. And if they don't hurt anyone else, who's to say what's a good reason and a what's a bad reason?"

"But, Gwaine, I just wish you'd let me…"

"What, help?" Gwaine laughed bitterly. He actually pitied Merlin his optimism and his nobility and goodness. "Merlin, this isn't something you help. It's—" And there were the doe-eyes. Jesus H. Christ, not the doe-eyes… "Not more than you have already, anyway," Gwaine admitted in a huff, went limp again, and looked away. "I mean, you saw me at my worst and you're still looking me in the eye, and that's better for me than—"

"But, Gwaine, you can't just keep it all locked up inside and pretend it never happened!"

Gwaine raised a challenging eyebrow. I killed a man at age nine and let my mother be executed for it, the eyebrow said. I lost my virginity when I was twelve to a woman twenty years my senior, and that's not even counting prison. I have stolen, cheated, lied, and murdered my way through life. And now, here, in the first place I have ever felt safe and loved, you are one hundred percent damn right I am going to keep it all locked up inside and pretend it never happened.

"Watch me."

…

A/N: Surprise chapter! BUT, for super reals I am OUT from now until the school year ends. This will be the last post from me for three weeks (which is far too soon to get everything done!) but I'll still probably hopefully maybe be diligently writing or at least plotting in any spare time I get (yeah, right) but then again, this post was just as unlikely to happen and here it is, so who knows! Hopefully it's enough to tide us over. Thanks to all those who read, review, favorite and alert. Gwaine still has a few more barriers to get over/through/around, so please do stay tuned, although patience is craved.