Okay, my last chapter was LONG, so I cut it off the first place that made sense – and rereading it, I realize I left quite a cliffy! Sorry about that. Hopefully the quick update makes it okay.

Btw, if anyone noticed that Arthur called Percival and Gwaine by name after returning to the truck, it's because they were all under a lot of stress, and he didn't think to use their 'modern' names for Merlin's benefit…and Merlin didn't seem to notice… so they all have kind of dropped the use of their modern names…

In other news – we've passed 100 reviews (100 fols, almost 50 favs)! Thanks guys! It's like an intravenous shot of confidence!

Chapter 11: Sharing Secrets

Gaius was waiting on the porch when they pulled up to the townhouse. Gwaine and Leon both jumped from the truck to help Arthur ease Merlin's unconscious body from the vehicle, while Percival waited in the driver's seat.

"How is he, sire?" the old physician called, opening the door for them.

"It's just a graze, Gaius," Leon said. "Upper left arm."

Gaius' eyebrow lifted as he studied the limp form of his grandson supported between two knights. "What else happened?" he demanded sternly.

"He did magic," Arthur said wearily, climbing the stairs behind them.

"Sire, with all due respect, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with Merlin accompanying you if you're going to return him in this condition –"

Leon interrupted the old physician's rebuke, calling from the base of the staircase, "Gaius, be sure you take a look at Arthur's shoulder, also – he was shot."

Gaius swung around, mouth open in astonishment. Arthur mumbled, "That's why it's called bulletproof…" pushing around the old physician to escape his expression.

He trailed along upstairs as Gwaine and Leon deposited Merlin on the bed in his room with infinite care, and Gaius hurried further down the upstairs hall, presumably fetching medical supplies.

"He'll be all right," Gwaine predicted, passing Arthur at the door.

Leon paused. "What about the drones, Arthur?" he said in a low voice.

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. Gaius shouldered his way between them, grumbling under his breath, and switched on a desk lamp, positioning it to give him the best light to work with. "I think Merlin made some discovery just before…" he grimaced in dissatisfaction at having to say it, "just before the shooting started." Gaius gave them a look, one eyebrow raised in strict censure, as he checked his grandson's pulse and pupil dilation. "We'll see what he can tell us in the morning," Arthur decided. "No, Gaius, don't give me that look. I'd let him sleep a month of Sundays if I could, but –"

"You need him," Gaius finished the sentence with a sigh and a nod.

"What about your father?" Leon said.

"We'll wait to inform him, also, see if he gets reports from the guards," Arthur said. "He threatened to fire Merlin – to prosecute him… I wouldn't be at all surprised if he had the lot of you arrested when – if," he corrected, "if we tell him what we found."

Gaius snipped the black-sleeve bandage off Merlin's arm, catching the renewed ooze of blood-flow with a wad of gauze, and began to clean the wound with an alcohol swab. Merlin flinched, blinking and stirring. "Arthur?" he said thickly, and Arthur moved immediately into the room.

"I'm all right, Merlin," he reassured his friend. "I'm right here." Noticing the bits of grass and leaf mold flaking from Merlin's boots onto the blue-striped comforter of the bed, Arthur began to unlace them in order to remove them.

"You were shot," Merlin murmured, not fully conscious. The bruises on his face blended into a smear or two of paint Arthur had missed in the dim light of the truck cab, contrasting sharply with the whiteness of his skin under the lamplight. "In the back."

Arthur chuckled. "I was shot in the vest," he corrected. "I'm fine. Kevlar is so much better than chainmail for protection."

"Mm," Merlin answered drowsily, letting his head droop sideways on the pillow. "But bullets are faster than arrows, sire."

Gaius jerked upright to stare at Merlin. Leon touched Arthur's shoulder. Arthur took a deep breath and said, "If you think an injury means I'll let you have a day off– "

"Arthur," Merlin mumbled, his eyes dropping shut, "it's Saturday."

Arthur's heart plummeted. Leon let out the breath he'd been holding.

Arthur turned to his former right-hand knight. "You guys get some sleep, get cleaned up," he said. "We'll reconvene tomorrow morning at ten? I'll bring Merlin and come to you at Gwaine's –"

"You'll do no such thing," Gaius interrupted. "You can have your meeting here."

….. *….. *….. *….. *….. *….. *….. *….. *…..

Arthur was dreaming. In his dream, he sat at his father's desk in Camelot, lounging back in the comfortably padded desk chair. On the cluttered desk he could see two things clearly – a framed photograph of Guinevere in a strapless white gown, smiling like she'd just won the lottery, and a glossy new brochure featuring photos of three men, grinning and confident – Percival, Gwaine, and Elyan.

He looked up as the office door opened, and Merlin sauntered in, casual and comfortable, in gray trousers and vest over a collared shirt, irreverent grin in place – though with an air of added maturity - and seated himself on the corner of the big mahogany desk. He snapped his fingers and the computer screen to Arthur's left lit up, flickered through a dozen images while Merlin spoke to Arthur, the impertinence of his expression sobering only partially. Behind him, the door pushed open as Leon put his head in to ask a question. Merlin answered him, turned to Arthur and said –

"Rise and shine!" The voice was wrong, somehow – deeper than Merlin's should be. Arthur forced his eyes open to blink at a blurry image of a grinning face surrounded by dark hair.

"Merlin?" he croaked.

"No, sorry. Wakey, wakey, princess."

Gwaine. "Leave me alone," Arthur grumbled, his senses awakening in spite of himself. He discovered himself face-down on Gaius' couch, his feet hanging over the far armrest. Someone grabbed his arm – his left arm - and tugged, sending jolts of pain through his body. He gasped and snarled, "Get the hell off me!"

Gwaine said to someone, "I have more appreciation for Merlin, now – he is surly in the morning."

"Arthur." Leon's voice. "I brought clothes for you. It's nine-thirty. Saturday morning." Arthur sighed and rolled off the couch. He felt stiff, and his shoulder ached dully. The smell of the cream Gaius had rubbed into his bruised muscles only a few hours earlier seemed a headache-inducing mix of mothballs and Old Spice.

"There's coffee, Arthur," Gaius called from the kitchen. He dragged himself to the guest half-bath under the stairs, washed and changed, but didn't feel quite himself until halfway through his second cup of coffee.

"Gwaine," he said. The former knight looked up from his place on the couch, where Leon on the game controller was demonstrating progress he'd made on re-creating Camelot on Minecraft. "What word from the hangar?"

Gwaine stood and came to lean on the kitchen counter. "Nothing," he said. "I mean, not nothing, but – one of the day-shift guards called in sick, and there was a routine maintenance report for a line down."

"Nothing about a break-in?" Arthur said. "Nothing about missing drones?"

"Not a word." Gwaine glanced up at Gaius in the kitchen. "It seems Merlin was right about that guard."

A muffled thudding sounded from the stairway, accompanied by the jingle of dog tags, and the little white Scotty darted across the room, leaped to the stool beside Arthur. "Can you say that again, and louder?" Merlin said sleepily, coming into view.

The knights greeted him enthusiastically, which seemed to confuse him – whether because he hadn't expected them all to be there, or because he wasn't comfortable with so much goodwill at once, Arthur couldn't tell. He was dressed in his green plaid pajama pants with a faded denim-colored t-shirt, which made him look even younger compared to the knights in their jeans – Leon in khaki cargo pants – than he was. He'd washed and removed the black nail polish, but the wrist-band remained in place, just down his arm from the white bandage around his bicep. Arthur, knowing what to look for, saw the white line of the longest scar below the black leather as Merlin accepted the full mug of coffee his grandfather offered. Leon set the game controller on the coffee table and got up from the couch, followed by Percival.

Gaius unplugged the coffee maker. "What do you remember, Merlin?" he questioned, before turning to shift the microwave and unplug it as well.

Merlin said to Arthur, "You were shot." He scooped up the Scotty so he could drop down on the stool, keeping the pet curled comfortably in one arm, where it proceeded to lick and lick at his hand. Gaius stepped closer to the refrigerator and unplugged a cell phone charger.

"Yeah," Arthur said. "Got a nice purple bruise on my shoulder blade – wanna see?" Merlin yawned and shook his head. "How do you feel?"

"Alive and awake."

"The drones," Arthur said. "What did you find out?"

Merlin took a deep breath, let it out, then drank the rest of his coffee down as if it was water. "Cyclotetramethylene-tetranitramine," he pronounced as if it was a word he said everyday. "Octogen. HMX. Those rockets under the wings. Eight to a drone."

"Merlin," Gaius said, aghast. "Are you sure?"

"What is it?" Arthur said.

"HMX is an explosive, sire," Gaius said after a moment of shocked silence. "About twenty-five percent more potent than TNT. With eight missiles you could – you could –" The old man stopped, silenced by the enormity of the thought.

"You could take out D.C.," Leon said, and Percival nodded. "You control the drone remotely so the operator is never at risk, and choose the eight most important targets in the city –"

"Targets?" Arthur said.

"Military, government, commerce, population – anything," Gwaine realized.

"How the hell did this happen?" Arthur said. "And who –"

"There's more," Merlin said, wincing as he lifted his left arm to rub his eyes. "The remaining drone has been hardwired to respond to a piggy-backed network signal."

"Which means…" Arthur said.

Merlin stood slowly, allowing the Scotty to jump down from his lap, then stepped to the slider to open it and let the dog out to the backyard. "It means all six drones will launch simultaneously, whenever the sixth one is instructed to do so," Merlin said. "From wherever they are. And the GPS will show the drone's official flight path – not its actual location."

"So when it's sent off…" Percival said.

"Camelot and the DoD will think it's on its test flight path," Gwaine continued.

"When in reality it will be delivering those missiles," Leon realized.

"Wherever the hell that hacker – or whoever – wants them," Merlin finished. "Along with the other five."

"Six different targets?" Arthur said. "And all at once…" He felt sick to his stomach.

"What will we do?" Leon said, eyes on Arthur.

"Well, for starters, we'll have to –" Arthur was interrupted by a knock on the door, and a sweet voice calling down the hall, "Gaius?"

"Come in, Gwen," Gaius answered, bending over beside the computer desk to unplug both the machine, and the floor lamp beside it.

She came around the corner, two dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts in flat boxes balanced on her hand, and laughed at Gwaine's vocal praise, echoed more quietly – though no less gratefully – by Percival and Leon. She came to give Arthur a quick kiss and a cuddle inside the circle of his arms.

"I'm glad you're all right," she told him, her dark eyes bright with emotion. When Arthur released her, she went to hug Merlin also, reaching around his ribs to hold him tight. He looked astonished and uncomfortable, and patted her shoulder awkwardly.

" 'M fine," he mumbled. "Just a scratch." She pulled back to search his face. He forced a laugh and added by way of a joke, "I'm glad it's my left arm, anyway."

Gwen's brows drew down. "Because you're right-handed?" she said. "Does it hurt you when you use it that much?"

"No – if it was my right arm, it might've messed up Kilgarrah," Merlin answered, looked down at her. The radio buzzed briefly, then Montgomery Gentry came into focus clearly, but softly… Didn't I burn, didn't I bleed enough for you…

In the kitchen, Gaius' mug clattered and splashed coffee as he dropped it into the sink. "Who?" Arthur asked, looking from the old physician to his grandson.

Gwaine began to laugh. "You named your tattoo?" he said.

Merlin looked up at them – all watching him – and confusion and fear spread across his face. "Merlin – who's Kilgarrah?" Arthur said.

"I don't know," Merlin said. His arms dropped away from Gwen, his hands pressing against the glass of the slider behind him. I've faced your fears, the song on the radio whispered… Felt pain, so you won't have to…

"Arthur," Gaius said. "Kilgarrah is – was – the Great Dragon."

"How does Merlin know that?" Arthur said.

"You'll have to ask him," Gaius said. Leaving the kitchen, he made his way to the entertainment center on the bookshelf to unplug the whole system.

"The Great Dragon," Leon said suddenly, and pointed at Merlin. "You rode out with us to fight it. We didn't expect to survive the encounter…" The former knight didn't add, Don't you remember, but they all heard the question in his voice.

Arthur thought momentarily, maybe this isn't the best time for this, as Merlin's eyes flicked from one to another like a trapped wild thing. Maybe this is the only time for this – he'll be safer if he remembers his magic…

He turned deliberately away, caught the other knights' attention, and signaled to them what he wanted, hiding the motions from Merlin with his body. Gwaine backed up to lean in the doorway of the front hall almost nonchalantly. Leon eased toward Merlin as Percival took up position in the corner to block the pane of glass Merlin had once walked through. Yeah, didn't I do my best/ And wasn't home here when I left?

Warily, Merlin watched them all move, until Arthur leaned close to force eye contact. "Merlin," he said softly. Two sides of one coin. "Don't you remember?"

Something flickered in those deep blue depths – Arthur glimpsed a longing so profound, a hope so faint and yet so vital – it almost left him gasping for breath. Gwen reached to touch Merlin's bare arm, and he flinched away like she'd stuck him hard with a pin. He dodged around Arthur to the other end of the kitchen counter, pale and breathing hard.

"I don't – I don't know what you mean," he choked out.

"I am Arthur," Arthur said. "This is my Queen." Gwen smiled tremulously at the pale sorcerer, coming to stand at Arthur's side. "These are my knights of the Round Table." He gestured to the other three men.

"Why are you saying this?" Merlin whispered, cringing away from Arthur's gaze. He put his fists up beside his temples. The Montgomery Gentry song dissolved into a crescendo of static.

"Your grandfather is my court physician," Arthur continued. He hated that his words – as true as truth – hurt his friend, but… they felt so right to finally say. "And you – you have magic. My sorcerer."

I use it for you, Arthur – only for you… The words rang out between them, unspoken.

"Why are you saying this?" Merlin said again, raising his voice. The printer chugged like it had no paper remaining for a print job. The tv flickered as though someone was channel-surfing at top speed, with accompanying changes in volume. "Why are you mocking me?"

"I'm not," Arthur said, softly but clearly. "You're my friend." He approached the sorcerer step by deliberate step. Maybe it was cruel to use his own dying words, but he wanted so badly to reach Merlin. "And I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you."

"Shut up!" Merlin cried, twisting away. "Shutupshutupshutup! It's not true it never was true you're not him I'm not him my name is marvin and there's no such thing as magic!" He was shouting at the top of his voice by the time he finished.

"Merlin!" Gaius called above the chaotic white noise of the townhouse's electronics. "Please, calm down!"

Merlin rounded on the old man violently. "It's not me!" he screamed. "I'm not doing anything!"

"My boy," the physician entreated with the utmost kindness, "everything is unplugged."

Merlin jerked back as though the old man had slapped his face. Instant silence reigned. Gwaine – the only other Arthur could see in his peripheral vision – glanced nervously at his two companions by the glass door.

"Come," Gaius said gently. "Come, sit down for a minute." Merlin allowed the old man to pull him to the couch, sit beside him. Merlin's eyes were blank and dark in the whiteness of his face and he allowed himself to be led and maneuvered like a sleepwalker. Gwen passed Arthur hesitantly to take the seat at Merlin's other side, slide her hand into his.

"When I first saw you," the old man said brokenly, "you saved my life – that fall from the balcony would have killed me."

It was impossible to tell, from Merlin's expression, whether he heard or not.

Gwen said to him, so softly Arthur almost couldn't hear, "You were in the stocks when I introduced myself. You didn't seem to mind the people of Camelot throwing tomatoes at you – like it was all in good fun. I told you, I thought you were very brave."

Gwaine left the doorway to perch on the coffee table, knee-to-knee with Gaius, and touching his young friend's green-plaid covered leg. Arthur drifted sideways to take Gwaine's place, sitting on the bottom step of the staircase.

"I remember a fight in the tavern," the rough knight said lightly. "The odds were against us… Wasting good ale smashing that jug on some guy's head. You were throwing plates…" Plates? Arthur wasn't sure he remembered that. But yes, that sounded like Merlin.

Leon left the slider, and Percival followed him, both knights moving to the rear of the couch as Merlin sat back, away from Gwaine, his eyes unfocused, his face tense. Leon said, "I remember nights out on patrol, teasing you about your stew, pretending we ate it all and left none for you, telling you it was too –"

"Too salty," Merlin whispered. A tear dropped from the corner of his eye, brushing his cheek as it fell. Leon leaned down to put a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

The biggest knight said, "I remember a Round Table." Another tear followed the first down Merlin's face. Gwen was crying silently, too. "We were a handful planning an attack against an immortal army. I said to our king, your enemies are my enemies." Percival covered Merlin's other shoulder with one big hand.

Arthur's mouth was dry, and his heart was pounding. He remembered that moment distinctly. He stood from the carpeted stair, and rounded Gwaine to stand in front of Merlin and Gwen, sympathetically squeezing her friend's hand and watching his face hopefully.

"Everyone stood but you," he said. "You had no need to proclaim your loyalty." His voice sounded hoarse to him. "But I – I needed to hear it anyway. I said… Merlin?" His attempt to recreate the tone he'd used – something like expectant sarcasm - failed utterly. "You said…"

"Don't fancy it," Merlin whispered, his eyes still vague, focused somewhere over Arthur's shoulder. "And you said –"

"You have a choice, Merlin," Arthur told him, past a painful lump in his throat. He meant it, too. If Merlin chose to continue oblivious, Arthur would not fault him. "You always have a choice."

Merlin's gaze drifted sideways, until his blue eyes locked onto Arthur's, and came alive. He nodded at Arthur, managed a husky whisper. "All right, then." He was willing. He was always willing, no matter what it required of him. In the wake abandon willing sacrifice…

A surge of pure and affectionate gratitude for the loyalty of his friend swelled in Arthur's heart, and he reached down to ruffle Merlin's black hair.

At his touch, Merlin's eyes closed, his body stiffened – Arthur realized they were all touching him at once. Merlin's arms flew out to the sides – Gwen and Gaius twitched back to avoid being struck – his hands splayed with such sudden tension that his fingers bent backwards. He inhaled, a dry ragged sound, his lungs filling slowly and inexorably, like his body would consume all the oxygen in the room.

Everyone else froze.

Merlin rose to his feet, Arthur's hand still on his head, like a puppet that the king lifted. As one, the others released their hold on the sorcerer, and Arthur let his hand drop also.

Merlin exhaled in a soft sigh. Then he opened his eyes. "Arthur," he said only, as if they were alone in the room.

"Yes." Arthur waited, his heart hammering in his chest.

"You're alive." Simply, almost childishly spoken.

"Yes." He felt like they'd just plunged over the first hill of a roller-coaster…dropping with hilarious exhilaration.

"It's good to see you again." Merlin nodded once, as if confirming something to himself. "Please excuse me, sire." He stepped past Arthur, who let him go, not knowing what else to do, and walked carefully to the stairs. He ascended them with the same deliberation, and a moment later they heard his bedroom door close.

The roller-coaster reached the bottom of the hill and stalled out. Arthur looked down at Gaius, who wore a dumbfounded expression. The others exchanged glances as if to ask, what just happened?

"Is that it?" Gwaine said. "Is that all it took?"

"What do you mean, is that all it took?" Arthur snapped. His head felt heavy, and the throbbing in his shoulder spread down his arm and up his neck. "In which century is that considered normal behavior for Merlin?"

Overhead, the lights flickered. Lights in all three rooms, the hallway – flickflickflickered, then buzzed brilliant, at double or triple-wattage, then faded, slowly, down to a single orange glow in the recessed lighting of the living room.

Arthur looked uneasily at Gaius, who pushed himself up, but Arthur was the first up the stairs. He hesitated at the door of Merlin's room, then knocked. "Merlin," he said. The hall light flared briefly.

"Arthur?" Merlin voice sounded slightly muffled, yet it was exactly the same light cheerful tone his servant had habitually used, fifteen hundred years ago. "Was there something you needed?"

Arthur pushed the door open. Merlin lay on his side on the bed, curled in the fetal position, arms wrapped around his head. A carousel of loose objects floated mid-air, bobbing and circling the room. The desk lamp and the alarm clock-radio tugged gently at their cords like rowboats tied in a current.

Arthur ducked a pair of boxer shorts and a sock, brushed away two pencils that bumped his shirt like enormous blind dragonflies to come to the middle of the domestic maelstrom. He seated himself on the side of the bed next to Merlin's knees. The lighter with the white dragon on it danced past. "I thought you might need something," he said to Merlin.

The flying objects stilled, hovering. "Me?" Merlin said, still unmoving. "What?"
Oh – time. Company. A nap, a sandwich…Understanding. "A friend?" Arthur tried.

Merlin's arms dropped and he twisted so his shoulders were flat on the bed. His eyes were a dull, exhausted blue centered in purple-brown hollows. The rest of his skin was stark white, except for a faint green shadow on the side of his face, and a darker green-brown along his jaw.

"A friend?" His whisper was harsh. Arthur reached to put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, and Merlin clung to his forearm as if to anchor their souls together through that contact. "I'm a sorcerer." The loose detritus of Merlin's bedroom rushed once around the room, then hovered once again in place.

Arthur remembered keenly the last time Merlin had said that – they'd been touching each other in much the same way, only it had been Arthur in the prone position, fighting deep internal pain. "I know," he said.

"I have magic," Merlin repeated, as if he didn't think Arthur understood.

Arthur said, "I'm glad."

Merlin stared at him. Then his body convulsed, and he screwed his eyes shut in pain, grunting at an invisible onslaught, then another – anotheranother – the floating objects slammed backward into the walls, then slid downward to come to rest.

"Gaius!" Arthur raised his voice knowing the old physician was waiting at the door.

Gaius hurried in, bent over Merlin on the other side. "I don't know, sire – a seizure?" he said.

Tears leaked down Merlin's temples, and sweat stood out on his face. He moaned and clenched his teeth, squinted at Arthur and gasped, "Stay with me? Stay with me…" He curled onto his side again, squeezing Arthur's hand with both of his, pressing his forehead against the side of Arthur's wrist.

"I will," Arthur said. Remembering how he'd had to leave Merlin, before, there so near to the lake – and yet so far. "I will stay," he promised.

There you have the memory recovery scene – I hope no one was disappointed… Okay, please no rolling eyes at the 'laying on of hands'. ;) If you want to reread (or just take my word for it) you'll see that when Arthur touched Merlin the first day they met, Merlin was angry with him, shrugged him off. And after that, Arthur only touched him when he was unconscious or nearly so – and this was when Merlin was the closest to remembering…

To Scrubbedceiling: I had a small moment in ch.3 (The Round Table) when Arthur decides he's not that interested in drones because of his experience leading men into hand-to-hand combat. I think what solves it, is that the knights would not be using the drones, just defending against them… have I given too much away? :P