You are all so kind… This being my first attempt at fanfiction, I am still feeling my way… awkwardly, but there is progress…

Um, am I supposed to say I don't own merlin? So, yeah… *shuffles feet, mumbles* don't own merlin…

But this is all mine…!

Chapter 2: Gaius' Chambers

Arthur left a pink-cheeked Gwen at the receptionists' desk in the lobby, following Mary up to the third floor, where he was left in the care of another plump, matronly lady in HR, named Roberta.

"Here's your employee handbook," she said, situating him at an empty table in a small conference room. "You're going to need to read through it, sign every page and initial each subsection. Here's the policy on sexual harassment, here's the confidentiality agreement and the hazardous materials checklist, here's the liability waiver… here's all your employment paperwork, your 1040…I'll be right next door – let me know when you're done and we'll get your keycard and ID."

Arthur skimmed the handbook, impatient in the silence of the room, signing and initialing everything. His father ran the company, how much trouble, really, could he get into? And how much danger? He was only an intern, after all. He stood, flexing cramped fingers, and stepped to the window, which looked down on a side lawn, another door that led to – he consulted his internal map of the company's layout – the break-room.

Merlin was outside on the lawn, familiar shaggy black hair and skinny silhouette. He had one arm wrapped around his ribs, one hand lifted to his face in an odd gesture – he moved his hand, and blew out a cloud of smoke. He held his cigarette oddly, not between index and middle finger, but pinched between his thumb and first two fingers, curled under the rest of his hand. He took another long drag, then untucked his left hand to shake a small square box, bring it to his mouth, and leave a new cigarette hanging from his lips. He brought his right hand up again to light the second cigarette from the first, then flicked the used stub into the grass, ignoring the sand-filled bucket next to the base of the wall of the building.

Merlin, a chain-smoker?

A young lady in a khaki skirt approached from the parking lot, fumbling something from the purse over her shoulder, glancing at Merlin as she passed. He ignored her. She placed something in her hand next to the black box on the door to the building, waited a moment, then pushed her way inside.

Arthur frowned as he watched his old friend and sometime servant inhale the rest of the second cigarette, then turn to enter the building as well.

"Done already?" said Roberta brightly, coming in the door. "Just leave this here, I'll gather it later – no, that binder is yours to keep. Step here for one moment and – smile – there. Your ID and key card will be waiting for you at the receptionists' desk tomorrow morning. Now, the rest of your day is free, Mary said, unless you'd like me to –"

"IT's on the second floor, right?" Arthur said, heading for the main stairwell.

"Yes, just – left at the bottom there."

Turning left as instructed, Arthur passed Aiden's office and found himself lingering outside the door of the corner office – Carol T, the nameplate said.

"Can I help you with something?" Carol asked, glancing up briefly. Her desk faced sideways to the door, another desk behind her facing the outer wall.

"Is Merlin around?" Arthur said, coming a few paces into the room.

"Smoke break."

"Ah."

She glanced at him again. "Something else?"

"How's he to work with?" Arthur asked, curious. And bothered, if he admitted it. "Annoyingly cheerful, won't shut up, too clumsy for his own good?"

She looked at him longer, frowning. "Not our Merlin," she said. "Clumsy – well, I'll give you uncoordinated. No, he's moody – it's tough to get him to say two sentences together. But he is brilliant with computers. I guess you could say he does all his communicating with them. But – he's only been here a week. Maybe he's still getting used to us. Hey, Merlin." She looked back to her monitor as Arthur turned to see his friend pass in the hallway.

"Merlin!" Arthur caught up to him. "What' going on?" Was he angry with Arthur? "Are you mad at me for dying?" Arthur said, realizing how ridiculous he sounded, but unable to explain Merlin's attitude.

Merlin shot him an incredulous look. "Are you mental?" he said.

"Stop walking!" Arthur ordered, a hand on Merlin's arm to pin him lightly to the corridor wall. "I know it's been a while, and we were a few years older when we saw each other last, but –"

"Do you know how insane you sound?" Merlin scoffed, shrugging violently away from Arthur's grasp. Arthur leaned closer, his gaze boring into Merlin's. There was no recognition. "I don't know you, friend – so just leave me alone." He turned and strode away.

"Merlin!" Arthur called after him, aware that he couldn't bellow down a company hallway the way he'd hollered down the corridors in the palace, once upon a thousand years ago.

Merlin didn't slow, didn't turn – he picked up an ear-bud from its place dangling against his collarbone and inserted it into his ear, ducking around a corner and out of Arthur's sight.

Arthur sighed, frowned, and descended the grand stair to the lobby.

Gwen was answering a call when she saw him, twinkled and blushed. "Good morn – ah, afternoon… Camelot, ah, Industries…" She waved him away, distracted by his presence, swiveling her chair to turn her back and regain her presence of mind. "How – how may I direct your call?"

"Where's the lab?" Arthur said to Patty.

"Across the road, about a mile down. Shall I let your father know –" The warbling phone interrupted Patty's train of thought.

Arthur leaned over the high ledge to touch Gwen's hand, giving her a cheerful grin on his way out the door. She shook her head at him, but she was smiling.

Arthur walked swiftly past the parking lot, down the drive to the main road. He removed his tie, rolled it and put it in the pocket of his trousers. When he reached the road, he could see the square shoulders of another building above treetops, and moved toward it, crossing the quiet road and walking on the mown grass in spite of his Kenneth Cole's.

The lab was an unpretentious down-scale model of the headquarters building, without the sculpture. The lobby was tiny, a simple desk with a gray-uniformed guard and two molded plastic chairs for waiting.

"I'm Arthur Drake," he told the guard. "I'm here to see – ah –" He couldn't said 'Gaius', could he? – "Ah – the head of the lab."

"Dr. Sagesse?" the guard said, for clarification.

"Dr…. Sagesse," Arthur said, now unsure.

"Dr. Augustus Sagesse?" The guard lifted his eyebrows, clearly expecting Arthur to know the name of the man he came to see. "Dr. Gus?"

"Dr. – Gus," Arthur repeated, relieved. "Yes – if you could tell him Arthur Drake is here."

The guard picked up the phone, hesitated, his finger hovering over the buttons, his eyes wary. "Do you have any identification, sir?" he said.

"Gai – uh, Gus will recognize me," Arthur said, with more confidence than he felt. I hope.

The guard made the call, replaced the phone receiver. He watched Arthur pace once to the inner door, then back again, gazing unseeing out toward Camelot. Then the inner door opened.

"Arthur."

He turned, pleased – he'd know that voice anywhere. It was Gaius – well, a modern Gaius. His hair was an inch-long white bristle, his pate bald, his eyebrows half-hidden behind the thick black rim of his glasses. He wore a white lab coat over royal blue trousers.

"Come in, come in," the old man said, motioning with a trace of his old preemptory manner. "Arthur – sire – it is so good to see you. I've waited – goodness! – too long for this." He cleared his throat gruffly, and motioned to Arthur that they should follow the hallway. "We can talk in my office."

Gaius' office was white, and spare – stacks of printouts overflowing wire baskets, a closed laptop on the desk, a half-bookshelf stuffed full, with several books resting at an angle on the tops of their brothers. There were three small animal skulls atop the bookshelf, alongside a chunk of smooth and murky green glass and an almost-spherical palm-sized rock. On one wall was a city-scape recognizably Paris, the other supported an enormous window that looked into a room that reminded Arthur of his chemistry lab at Brown. Two white-clothed figures worked together over a back table, wearing full protective gear.

"You remember?" Gaius said, rounding on him abruptly. Arthur nodded. "Have you seen Merlin?"

Arthur was startled at the emotion strung between those simple words. "I have," he said slowly. "That's why I came to see you."

"He didn't remember." Gaius leaned on the desk, suddenly looking old and tired. He felt his way to the chair and collapsed into it, crossing his arms and rubbing one hand over his face. "I thought – I hoped…" he mumbled. Then he sighed and looked back at Arthur. "Who else?" he said.

Arthur couldn't help a smile, in spite of his perturbation over Merlin. "Leon is my father's driver and bodyguard," he said. "Gwen is finishing her first day as a temporary substitute for one of the receptionists on leave. She said Elyan – Allen – is in San Diego. Navy."

Gaius nodded, then gave Arthur a sharper look. "How long have you known Sir Leon, this time?"

"I was fifteen when my father hired him," Arthur said. "Why?"

Gaius tented his fingers together, gazing blankly through the window into the lab. "You experienced dreams as a boy, then? Vivid, recurring dreams, memories of your former life playing out, reminding you of who you were?"

"Yes – Leon as well. And Gwen told me, she and Elyan – Allen – used to talk… what is it you're not telling me, Gaius?" He recognized the look on the old man's face, it meant that Gaius was trying to find a way to give bad news in a good way, or to present disturbing conjecture in the most logical light. "What's wrong with Merlin?"

"I don't know, for sure. He is different. He doesn't remember. He won't speak with me about it. And I am afraid…" Gaius paused. "I had hoped when he laid eyes on you again, sire, that it would help him. But if he doesn't know you…"

"Why not?"

Gaius shook his head, spreading his hands apart helplessly. "I can only guess," he said. "Your dreams came at an impressionable age – you were willing to believe, and there was Sir Leon to corroborate what your heart told you was true. Elyan and Gwen had each other, so it would seem. For the rest, we shall just have to wait and see."

The rest. Arthur collapsed into Gaius' guest chair. "Why are we back, Gaius?"

"Destiny called you," the old man said, giving a characteristically simple-yet-complex answer. "I don't suppose you're meant to unite a kingdom, not in this day and age, but – I'm sure there's something important you're meant to do. It's not the why or the what that worries me, though… I'm sure that will come clear in time…"

"What worries you, Gaius?" Arthur asked wearily, though he thought he could guess.

"Merlin," the old man said simply. "Fifteen hundred years ago, he needed you and you needed him. Without him…" he hesitated.

"Without him, we may not be able to fulfill the task Destiny has called us back for, is that it?" Arthur said.

"I'm afraid that's exactly it, sire."

Arthur rubbed his hand over his eyes. "So… if Leon and I helped each other to accept our dreams as truth, and Gwen and Elyan had each other… who did Merlin have? Who did you have, my father?" He didn't remember ever hearing the name Dr. Augustus Sagesse in the Drake household.

"Merlin – had no one," Gaius said softly, sadly. "His father was in the Army, killed in Iraq in 2001. Merlin was six years old. The following year, his mother and older brother were killed in a home invasion, which he apparently slept through."

Arthur stared at him. Merlin's father…mother…older brother… "And where the hell were you?" he said softly.

Gaius grimaced. "I was in Africa. Serving with 'Doctors Without Borders'. I spoke with his father's commander via satellite phone – he said his family wanted to take Marvin in. I thought – I thought young Marvin would do better with a family than with just a grandfather."

"And?" Arthur demanded. "Did he have dreams, too?"

Gaius shook his head, frustrated. "I don't know. I wrote a few letters, which he answered, punctually and properly. He never mentioned dreaming, and I – " The old man cleared his throat. "I didn't know until this spring that the commander had given him back into the state's custody when he was thirteen. And in May Merlin sent me a postcard notice of his graduation. We had – lost touch."

Arthur leaned back, shaking his head. "Gaius," he said.

"I blame myself entirely," the old man said. "My own youth was far behind me, and it wasn't until I came to work here, and met your father, that I even remembered my own dreams. But Thomas – your father – didn't share my memories. I thought… well, I was a foolish old man."

Arthur tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "What are we going to do?" he said.

"I don't know, sire." Gaius went on, "I suppose, in the interests of helping Merlin regain his memories – if they are there for him to access… I do have state records from Washington detailing his years in foster care. Perhaps you could stop by my townhouse this weekend…"

"Washington?" Arthur said, straightening in surprise. "You mean he's been here all along?"

"Not D.C.," Gaius corrected. "Washington state. The commander's family was stationed last at Fort Stewart." At Arthur's look, the old man explained, "Seattle."

"That's about as far away from here as you can get," Arthur said.

"I hope it's not too late for Merlin…"

"It isn't," Arthur decided firmly. "It can't be." Merlin, giving him a mock-bow… prince of the realm.. if you'll excuse me, sire… "Gaius," he said suddenly, straightening on the edge of his seat, "does Merlin have – magic, this time?"

Gaius swung his chair to face Arthur momentarily, swung it back to gaze through the window once again. "I – believe so," he said. "There were times I suspected… but he doesn't know it, or at least he doesn't accept it."

"What?"

Gaius took a deep breath. "This is the future," he said, "of the once and future king. You will need to reach Merlin, Arthur – I've tried, and I cannot, for fear of pushing him too far and losing him again. Whatever you're here to do – I suspect you will need him for it, just as much as you will need any of us who have been granted a return. You may need him more. And he – he will need… well." He looked at Arthur over the thick black rim of his glasses. "Sire – I hate to say this, but… you may not have much time."

When Arthur left the lab, the sky was overcast, and he guessed the sun was near setting. The engine of one of the cars in the small parking lot was already running, waiting, a silver Prius. Arthur began to walk past, caught sight of the arm resting on the driver's door over the retracted window – cigarette trailing smoke over a black-nailed hand, black studded wrist-band.

Arthur doubled back, slipping between the Prius and a small blue Camero to open the passenger side door before Merlin could notice his approach and hit the auto-lock. He stepped into the foot-well, seated himself, and shut the door behind him. Brassy jazz filled the small space; he recognized Duke Ellington's "Solitude."

"What the hell," Merlin said, tiredly and with no real heat. He angled his body into the corner between driver's seat and door, not-quite facing Arthur. A pair of black sunglasses hid his eyes, his expression, despite the lack of sunlight in the dying day.

"I think you and I might have got off on the wrong foot," Arthur said, forcing cheerfulness.

"You think?" Merlin lifted his cigarette to his mouth, again with the curious three-fingered grip, his hand tented over the smoke.

"There's no reason we can't be friends," Arthur said. Merlin turned his head to exhale through the open window – the digital readout on the vehicle's satellite radio flickered, catching Arthur's attention. In my solitude, you taunt me, with memories that never die… changed to What's forever for… where's the glory in living…

Arthur continued, "After all, we're both interns in Camelot this summer."

Merlin snorted smoke. "You think that makes us anything alike?" he said. "Your dad's CEO." Scorn filled each word. Ah, the prince of the realm… how long have you been training to be a prat, my lord…

Arthur bit off a retort, remembering what Gaius had said about Merlin's father – six years, this time, better than before…but still not enough. He opened his mouth, reconsidered, then said deliberately, "So what does your dad do, then?"

No reaction. "Army grunt," Merlin said shortly, his gaze focused out the window.

"And you're living with your grandfather for the summer? For the internship?"

The satellite radio flickered again, hissed out a sudden angry rash of static. Merlin flinched away from the window as a figure loomed, bent to lean on one forearm propped on the car roof.

"Merlin," Leon said with contained pleasure, reaching his other hand in to shake Merlin's shoulder gently. "It's good to see you again."

Merlin was stiff under the former knight's hand. "Yeah – again – whatever," he muttered. "And you are –"

Leon ducked slightly to send Arthur a confused-concerned frown. Arthur shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, and Leon retreated into cool professionalism.

"Leon Tweed; I work for Mr. Drake. Welcome to Camelot."

"Yeah, well – Dr. Gus will be coming out any minute – I'm waiting to drive him home." It was a clear dismissal, and the irony of the situation made Arthur want to laugh, if it wasn't so damn annoying…and important.

"Well. All right." He reached for the door handle. So that's how that felt.

"Dr. Gus?" Leon was saying. Merlin ignored him, and Leon straightened to catch Arthur's eye as he turned to shut the passenger door.

"Gaius," Arthur said, but quietly, so Merlin didn't hear. He pointed a finger at Merlin through the roof of the Prius. "His grandfather."

He circled the vehicle to join Leon, who stepped back with a quiet, "See you around, Merlin." Leon gestured to the headquarters across the road and behind a stand of trees. "Car's still parked over there," he said to Arthur, and began to lead him away through the lot. Leon cleared his throat, "I have something for you." He took a slip of yellow paper from his pocket – a sticky-note folded on itself. "So Guinevere – Gwen – is in Camelot, too."

Arthur snatched the note, a silly grin spreading in spite of himself.

"I met her as she was leaving," Leon continued. "Said she couldn't wait, she promised a friend she'd babysit this evening." He gave his former sovereign an amused half-smile. "She pretended to be upset with you – said you hadn't even asked for her number."

Arthur groaned. "I should've thought of that!" He pried open the sticky note to see a ten-digit number in her handwriting, followed by a drawn heart and signed simply, "Gwen." He reached into his pocket for his smart-phone.

Leon made a noncommittal noise. "Arthur," he said then, his voice turning serious. "What's the matter with Merlin?"

Arthur's hand paused in his pocket. He kicked at a pebble and missed. "He doesn't remember," he said.

Leon's lips twitched, but his tone was characteristically deferential. "I take it he's been treating you with more disrespect than usual?"

Arthur snorted. It was true that Merlin had never stood on protocol with his prince – or his king. But… now there was an edge. "He's not the same," he said lamely.

"I'm sure he'll remember you, given time," Leon said. He glanced up and down the road as they reached the drive entrance to the lab, held Arthur back by his sleeve as a yellow Pennzoil truck thundered past.

"I don't think he even likes me," Arthur said, and immediately scoffed at himself, Don't be such a girl, Arthur.

Leon chuckled. "I heard what happened when the two of you met in Camelot – the first time."

Arthur couldn't help a snicker, but quickly sobered, remembering a more recent – if 1500 years ago could be called recent – conversation.

I almost took your head off with a mace… and I stopped you – using magic… I should've killed you then…well, I'm glad you didn't…

They never did give themselves an easy time of it.

"Give him a chance," Leon added, "he'll come around."

And Arthur was nothing if not stubborn.