I've decided to continue this, so here you go. Chapter 2
Also, to AuroraKnight, the point you made about Sam knowing about Merlin and Arthur will indeed come up, I did think about that because of course Sam would know about them xD
Anywho, here's the next chapter
Disclaimer: Still don't own any involved, I only own my mistakes

A burst of sparks showered off the colliding blades as metal met metal in a powerful collision. Held in a lock, Arthur stepped forward and slid his sword along the blade of Dean's knife, the resonating scream of steel piercing through the air like thunder.

Tightening his muscles, Arthur pushed at their locked blades and succeeded in knocking the older Tribute back. The look that crossed Dean's eyes was that of surprise mixed with outrage, and in the next instant he was closing the distance between them once again.

Quick as a snake, Dean lashed out with the large knife, swinging the blade at Arthur's exposed stomach, and if Arthur had been anyone else, he was sure that Dean would have gutted him just then, but being the Prince of Camelot didn't come easily. The years of relentless training he'd gone through paid off in that instant when without even thinking, his arm pulled his sword back and managed to deflect Dean's swing.

An almost inhuman growl passed Dean's lips and his eyes narrowed in anger as he stepped back once more.

Not willing to give the other Tribute any reprieve, Arthur led the offensive this time with a swing of his sword which was easily met with Dean's own blade. Breaking away, Arthur swept his sword upwards, but Dean was quick enough to bring his knife down and stop Arthur's attack again.

Spinning away, Arthur came up on Dean's side and attempted to slash him across the ribs, but with the grace of an experienced fighter Dean leapt backwards and retaliated with a kick to Arthur's shins. Satisfaction lit a fire in Dean's green eyes as his kick hit its target.

Pain flared up in his leg, but Arthur had dealt with far worse before, and without taking a moment to even register the hit, he was already swinging his sword up again. Apparently Dean had expected the kick to deter him, because he obviously wasn't prepared for the blade that swung towards his face.

Reeling back at the last possible moment, Dean saved himself from getting his head cleaved in two, but he wasn't fast enough to escape a rather large slash up his cheek. Red blood immediately welled to the surface and spilled down like small rivers. Dean spat a curse as he retreated back a few steps, his hand carefully tracing the wound on his face.

Seeing that Dean was preoccupied with his cut, Arthur took the moment to shift his weight to his other leg so that less pressure remained on his wounded one. A dull throb was quickly making itself known in his shin.

"Damn." Dean breathed, turning his eyes back to Arthur. "Where'd you learn to fight? Are you a Hunter?"

The question caught him off guard, and he lowered his sword slightly. "I'm no hunter. My name is Prince Arthur. And you? Declare yourself. What kingdom are you from?"

His question seemed to stump the other Tribute, who simply stared at Arthur with a look of utter confusion on his face. "I said declare yourself! Are you a knight? Surely you're not from Camelot; if you are I'll have you hanged for treason. You and your friend."

That seemed to strike at something primal in the other man, and in the next instant he was bringing his knife down towards Arthur's head. Battle hardened reflexes had his own blade rising to meet Dean's in a clash.

"I don't know what you've been smoking, but you threaten my brother again and I'll kill you, I swear. I don't care if you're the freaking king of Mars, don't you ever threaten my brother." Dean growled menacingly as he put more pressure on the knife, forcing Arthur's blade lower and lower.

He was beyond confused now, but he didn't have the time to ask more questions at the moment. With every second that passed his sword was pushed further and further down, consequently getting closer and closer to his face. Seeing no other way out, Arthur quickly rolled to the side and came up on Dean's side once more.

Jabbing with his sword, he attempted to cut into Dean's side again, but was thwarted a second time when Dean spun the knife in his hand and deflected the blade away.

Both Tributes were beginning to breathe heavier but neither was willing to give in yet. Just as they were about to ensue in battle once more, a huge blast of heat slammed into them like a wall and threw them both off their feet. The sensation of flying was abruptly ended when they slammed down into the earth a few feet away.

A thunderous noise followed that left Arthur's ears ringing painfully as he tried to gather his shattered wits. A painful cough ripped from his lungs and his hands clawed at the earth uselessly. Images failed to make sense as everything seemed to bleed together in one mess of colors.

Closing his eyes, Arthur took a deep breath and lay still for a while. The ringing in his ears continued loudly and for what felt like an eternity before it finally grew quiet again. Arthur opened his eyes experimentally to find the world once again as it should be.

Lifting his head from the grass to see what had caused such a thing, his eyes landed on the Cornucopia. Massive flames leapt into the air like clawed hands, grasping at the sky as the flames beneath burst forth hungrily. It only took a moment of confusion before he remembered who was at the Cornucopia when it apparently exploded.

Every other question fled his mind at the prospect of Merlin, his best friend, being anywhere near that massive amount of fire and heat.

Dean seemed to have the same thought in his mind about Sam, and after briefly meeting each other's eyes; both Tributes forgot about their quarrel and shot to their feet. Practically matching Dean step for step, Arthur raced alongside him towards the roar of the flames.

~()~()~()~()~

Sam had no idea what Merlin was going to attempt to do with just his bare hands, but the way he held his palm out towards him gave Sam slight pause. The confidence in Merlin's blue eyes wouldn't be there if he didn't truly think he stood a chance, and the fact that it was confused Sam.

Readjusting his grip on the short sword in his hand, Sam resolved himself to fighting the young boy. With a speed unnatural to his height and bulk, the young Hunter slashed at Merlin's outstretched arm, aiming to deliver a deadly blow to the vital veins, but before the blade could make contact Sam found himself forcefully thrown backwards.

It felt as if a 16-wheeler had just slammed into his chest, and he wouldn't be surprised if he had a broken rib or two. All the air rushed out of his lungs as he crashed painfully into the ground and his vision grew dangerously dark for several seconds. For a moment his lungs refused to pull in air, but then the weight that was crushing him seemed to vanish and he drug in a lungful of air greedily.

Once he had somewhat regained his breath, Sam sat up on his elbows to stare incredulously at the boy before him. He could have sworn that Merlin's eyes had turned a brilliant gold seconds before he was thrown back, but cold blue was all that met his hazel ones now.

Grunting in pain, Sam heaved himself to his feet and brought the short sword out in front of him. Not even tossing him ten feet could make him lose his grip on his weapon; he was too hard trained for that.

"How…how did you do that?" Sam gasped.

Regret seemed to flood Merlin's eyes, but his mouth remained stubbornly closed.

"Alright then, don't tell me." Sam tightened his grip on the short sword, preparing himself for a quick jab that would hopefully take Merlin out before he could use that ability again.

"Don't." Merlin said simply.

Not heeding Merlin's warning, Sam shifted his stance so that he could better attack the boy.

Resignation replaced the regret in Merlin's eyes as he spoke, "Gar onbærne."

Instantly, flames leapt into existence all along the length of Sam's weapon, superheating the metal to unbearable heat. Gasping in pain, Sam dropped the weapon on a bag of supplies at his feet. Almost instantaneously the bag was alight with orange flames that ate hungrily at the flammable surface.

Recoiling from the sudden fire, Sam backed up a few steps away from the mouth of the Cornucopia. He watched in horror as the flames jumped from one item to the next until almost every box and bag was smoldering with supernatural flames.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam caught a glimpse of Merlin approaching the growing flames with his palm outstretched. His eyes were glowing gold and his mouth was moving frantically, but nothing was changing. Instead, the fire only jumped higher and higher until the whole mouth was on fire. For a second it looked like Sam was staring into the jaws of Hell itself, and the roaring of the flames sounded frighteningly similar to the roaring of a massive beast.

Fear stole his breath and he stumbled back several steps, the only thing keeping him from racing away in the other direction was Merlin.

Dean used to tell him that his compassion would get him killed one day, but he couldn't leave the boy in there to burn. Reversing the direction of his movement, he instead took several shaking yet determined steps towards the fire in the hopes of finding Merlin and dragging them both out to safety.

Before he managed to take five steps, however, the whole world exploded in front of him. He was thrown off the ground and sent flying through the air as the heat of the explosion chased after him. Smashing into the ground, Sam's head collided with the hard earth and all the lights went off in his mind.

He was floating in painless darkness when the voice roused him. It was simply noise at first and Sam waved it away, but it kept returning like an annoying gnat. It was disturbing his peaceful rest and he wanted it to stop.

Turning his head in the darkness, he attempted to find the source of the noise.

"-am!" the voice called.

It sounded vaguely familiar, but Sam couldn't put his finger on where he had heard it before. Curious now, Sam stopped moving and focused on listening harder.

"Sam!" the voice was louder this time.

"Open your eyes, dammit!" the familiar voice ordered.

Why did it sound so familiar? That voice…Dean!

Sam's hazel eyes flew open and he shot into a sitting position, his brother's name on his lips. The nausea that hit him was unexpected, and he would have fallen back again if not for the strong hands on his shoulders.

Slowly, Dean's face came into focus in front of him, and a small smile broke out on his face at the sight. There was a long vertical cut running up Dean's cheek, but other than that he looked unharmed.

"Why are you staring?" Sam asked, slightly disoriented.

"Maybe because you almost got blown up." Dean put his hands under Sam's arms and pulled him to his feet, letting Sam lean on him when he stumbled.

Dean's words struck a memory in his mind, and suddenly he was flooded with the events of what had just taken place.

"Oh my God, what about Merlin? I was going to get him out but the Cornucopia…" Sam started to say but fell silent as he gazed at the black smoke lifting away from the fire like a demon.

"Merlin? That kid? What does it matter what happens to him? I think that Arthur guy went to look for him. I'm just glad that you're okay, Sam. Do you know how close that was? If you had been only a few steps closer you would have died." The seriousness in his brother's tone had Sam's attention returning to Dean.

"It's okay, Dean. I'm fine." While his head hurt like Hell, Sam was pretty sure that he actually was fine, by some sort of miracle.

Dean seemed to sense the truth in that statement because he reluctantly nodded and tugged at Sam's arm. "We need to go. The supplies are gone anyways; it's no use trying to get through all that fire. Let's just retreat for now and regroup. You need some rest."

"What? No, Dean we can't just leave them."

"We can't leave them? Are you serious, Sam? They're trying to kill us! If they kill themselves in that fire then it's better for us. You heard that lady, we don't get to leave this place until everyone else is dead."

Sam turned his hazel eyes on his brother, "Exactly, Dean. Until everyone else is dead. Only one of us can leave. You know what that means."

Dean caught onto Sam's implications immediately, but he refused to accept it and began shaking his head. "No, Sam. We're both getting out of here."

"No, Dean. We aren't. Our best bet is to stick together. If we all stick together then maybe we can think of a way to get out of here, but if we go around killing each other then we're just giving these freaks what they want. They want to see us kill each other. Is that what you want, Dean? You want to be some pawn in this sick game of theirs?"

Sam knew he had gotten through to Dean when his brother cursed softly to himself. "Fine, Sam, but if they try and kill us I'm not giving them a second chance."

Smiling to himself at the personal victory, Sam nodded and pointed towards the burning Cornucopia. "Then we need to help Arthur. Now."

Dean rolled his eyes but complied nevertheless. Once he was sure that Sam could walk on his own, he took off at a quick jog towards the flames, covering his nose and mouth with his sleeved arm.

Sam split off to Dean's right so they could cover more ground before covering his own face and charging into the fire.

The heat alone was practically unbearable, but the dancing flames made it almost impossible to move around safely. The sting of the smoke burned his eyes and he soon found tears streaming down his face, but he still didn't stop his advance. Angry tendrils of fire clawed at him, desperately searching for something fresh to burn as Sam made his way through the wreckage.

Dodging around a burning crate, Sam jumped over another smoldering box before tripping over something at his feet. Throwing his arms out to stop his fall, Sam landed on all fours on the scorching earth. With nothing left to protect his breathing from the smoke, he broke out in ragged coughs as he inhaled the poisonous gas.

The coughing refused to let up, and eventually Sam decided that he couldn't stay anymore. Turning around, he made ready to go back when he caught sight of the object that tripped him in the first place. At first he couldn't make out the object, but the red neckerchief stood out and Sam almost cried out in joy at his sheer luck.

Bending over, Sam scooped the smaller boy into his arms and ran as fast as he could out of the flames. He didn't stop running until the blazing heat was no more than simple warmth at his back.

The instant he deemed them both safe, Sam collapsed to his knees in the grass and laid the boy down before another coughing fit stole his breath as his lungs struggled to expel the heavy smoke.

As soon as it passed, he reached over and shook Merlin's shoulder gently, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction. A cough soon ripped out of Merlin's abused lungs, and as if that were some sort of trigger he was suddenly coughing relentlessly.

Unsure of what else to do to help, Sam simply sat back and watched as Merlin's eyes flew open, revealing dazzling gold irises. Taken aback at the unusual color, Sam recoiled slightly, expecting another magic attack of sorts, but Merlin simply mouthed a few inaudible words to himself.

Whatever he said must have been a healing spell of sorts, because his coughing stopped completely, and he sat up looking rather unharmed despite the black soot covering his face and clothes.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked cautiously, unsure of what Merlin was capable of.

Blue eyes landed on Sam's face, shock registering in them for a second before being replaced by what Sam could only describe as gratefulness.

"Yeah, I'm fine now." Merlin smiled happily, looking boyish and young. "I think I have you to thank for that?"

Sam was a complete loss for words. Only an hour ago they were fighting each other, and now he was smiling and thanking him?

"Uh…well…you're the one who…you know." He made a vague sort of waving gesture.

The smile still didn't leave Merlin's face; in fact it only seemed to grow bigger. "I used magic, yeah, but you're the one who got me out of there, so thanks."

"You're welcome?" Sam said, not sure what else to say. Merlin had just admitted that he used magic. At first Sam had just thought it a strange coincidence, but after watching Arthur fight with that sword, and now Merlin was admitting he used magic?

The old Arthurian legends kept coming to his mind, but there was no way that the real King Arthur and Merlin were here. Hell, no one even knew if they really ever existed or not.

"Oh, but please don't tell Arthur that I have magic. He can't know." Merlin's voice broke into Sam's train of thought.

Eying the boy in front of him, Sam contemplated if it were possible that he was the real Merlin spoken of in the legends. "Sure. I won't tell him anything." Sam promised, thoroughly intrigued by the dark haired, blue eyed young man in front of him.

"Sam!" Sam heard his brother call. Turning his head, he saw Dean jogging over to him with Arthur in tow.

Upon seeing Merlin up and aware, Arthur picked up his pace and sped past Dean to kneel in front of him.

Without saying anything, Arthur grabbed Merlin's head in his hands and turned it from side to side, inspecting his friend to make sure he was really okay.

"You idiot." Arthur said seriously, before bellying the harsh statement with an affectionate hair ruffle.

"How the Hell did that happen? Why did the Cornucopia explode?" Arthur asked, shifting his gaze between Merlin and Sam.

Sam met Merlin's eyes for a brief moment before turning towards Arthur. "Um, we're not really sure. Maybe there was a bomb?"

Arthur's expression morphed from guarded concern to one of plain confusion. "A bomb?" he asked, exchanging a glance with Merlin. "What's a bomb? Some form of sorcery?"

The confused shrug Merlin gave in reply said he genuinely didn't know either.

Sam slid his eyes towards Dean, raising his eyebrows in silent question, but Dean looked just as lost as he did.

"Uh, nevermind." Sam deflected, searching desperately for a change of topic.

"Well, thank you." Arthur spoke up, beating Sam to it.

"Thank you? For what?"

"For saving my idiot servant. If you hadn't gone back for him, then I fear the idiot would have gotten himself killed." Genuine relief flitted across the Prince's face for a moment before it was expertly concealed.

"Yeah, and thanks to Sam here," Dean strode forwards and clasped his hand on Sam's shoulder, "we're not enemies anymore."

"We aren't?" Merlin asked, glancing at Arthur again.

"We don't have to be." Sam said, conviction lacing his voice. "Why should we kill each other simply because some woman said so? I told Dean earlier that we should be searching for a way out of here, not wasting our time trying to kill each other. If we all work together then I'm sure we can figure something out."

A pregnant pause filled the air as both Merlin and Arthur thought it through. Glancing at each other, an understanding seemed to pass between them and they turned to face the Winchesters again.

"You're right. You know, you're smarter than you look." Arthur pushed up off the ground to join Dean in standing.

An offended look crossed Sam's face as he too stood from the hard ground.

"He means that as a compliment. Even if it doesn't seem like it." Merlin spoke up with a grin, rising to stand next to Arthur.

"Alright, alright, let's get out of here." Dean pivoted and took off towards the vast forest, the other Tributes quickly falling into step beside him.

Looking to his left, Sam took in the sight of his brother, Merlin, and Arthur all striding forward in tandem, bloodstained and covered in dirt and soot, and if anyone really was watching them right now, with the roaring flames at their backs, then Sam would bet all his money that they were a sight to behold.

More Sherlock and John next chapter, don't worry, I just had to establish this alliance because I feel like if something like this were to happen, then Dean, Sam, Arthur, and Merlin would get along fairly well. Minus the control freak part that will no doubt come into play between Dean and Arthur, but that's later. Well, thanks for reading. Until next time ~ Thorn