AN: Wow! I deeply appreciate the reviews. So, here's the deal, as long as you people (yes I'm talking to you Mr. Story Alert without a review) can prove to me that I'm not wasting my time I'll continue to review. Work is hectic right now-Our CEO was voted out and one of our VPs resigned and is trying to take all of his clients with him, so now I'm doing his job, still helping with the infrastructure, and taking an online class with a lab-and my updates will probably be irregular for a while. I'm hoping to train a new VP before Fall, but I'll probably still be needed for support and reference for a time.

You know the drill, I do not own Merlin, it is property of BBC. I only own this crappy laptop and an original Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers Poster.

The answer to last week's question was Doctor Who. The "Very best of humanity" line came from Matt Smith in and episode from this last season.

For clarification, Italics is the running commentary in Merlin's head, "quotations" are actual conversations.

Shout out to Ozlex who is the greatest Beta ever and somehow manages to take my incomprehensible junk and turn it into something of value.

On with the main attraction…

Chapter 2 (Spoilers for S1 and S2)

"You think I'd lay down and die?"

MPOV

The lashings had ceased but Merlin had lost all grips on reality. His world was filled with nothing but pain. As the knights carried him to Gaius, every small jostle instigated by a set of stairs or turn in the corridors sent new waves of agony throughout the sorcerer's mutilated frame. Unconsciousness held no relief from the unending misery. Each time he regained some semblance of clarity, he wrestled against the oncoming darkness for with oblivion came the memories of the whip in Arthur's possession. It was a constant reminder that Arthur's strong noble hands had done this to him. One side of the coin had been melted with the fires of hell and left unrecognizable. The other side remained pristine, but still endured the heat.

Merlin opened his eyes and saw Gaius more distraught than he had ever thought possible. His face revealed distress exceeding the times he faced the threat of Sigan, the accusations of Aredian, or the debt left by that fateful Questing Beast bite. The warlock wanted to reassure his mentor of the trust and love he placed in the old man, unfortunately exhaustion overtook him before he could utter a word.

.

"…closest thing to a son…" Liar

. .

"…knew you were special…" Murderer

…

"…rare it is to have that much power from birth…" Sorcerer

. . . .

"…never seen him that close to anybody much less his servant…" Betrayer

Merlin didn't know how much time he had spent in delirium, but judging from the whiskers on Gaius's chin, it had been a while. Gaius looked more corpse than man and Merlin wondered if his father figure might need a physician of his own. It was as if his mentor was on the verge of collapse and Merlin doubted if the man had slept at all.

Then the pain finally began to ebb. It still pulsated along his nerves ready to explode, but occasionally Merlin could think. The warlock could not determine if such an achievement was for the better.

There was a soothing coolness at his brow and rough, calloused hands gently placing what he assumed to be a damp cloth there. He could just barely see retreating skin the color of tree bark before his eyes failed him. Gwen. Merlin had never known sunshine could burst out of someone's eyes until he met her. How perfectly did she counteract the fire which engulfed Morgana's very soul! Morgana, whom he potentially murdered, and whom he undeniably betrayed. She had gone to Morgause believing the sorceress to be her only kindred because she felt so alone and scared when she had no need. He had lied to her. He had made her the very thing of which the dragon—"Kilgarrah" his father's voice reminded him- had warned him she would become. And what of his father? How would Balinor feel of his son's support of the tyrant who turned father into the hermit and son into mincemeat? After all, that is what Merlin did every time he saved Uther's life; what he did every day he let the madman live. Was it really for Arthur that he ignored Uther's psychosis? Betrayer.

Destiny was rubbish, Merlin decided. The future was of his own making. However, the future he was constructing was not what he once envisioned. He didn't know who he was anymore, much less what he was supposed to do. No longer was he the village outcast, never persecuted but always avoided. Now he had many friends, but none who knew him truly. He was no longer the clueless child with a head full of dreams and a heart full of hopeless romanticism. Life grew hard, and Merlin had to harden himself against the world in order to survive. A smile and a stumble could only make him appear endearing and guileless. Yet truth was circumspect. Slowly, Camelot had siphoned Merlin's innocence since the moment he stepped foot inside the castle walls and the last of his reserves had been lashed from his back.

"…worthless idiot…"

Arthur. The prince's voice interrupted his introspection. Merlin opened his eyes to discover why his master had come.

"…so much more to do, you and I. Have you seen the state of my armor? It's absolutely ridiculous. My swords are duller than even you usually leave them and the townspeople have no one to throw their rotten vegetables at…"

None of the false bravado in the kingdom could cover up the occasional hitch in the prince's breath. Merlin always knew what Arthur could not bring himself to recognize. Always knew what the prince's now cracking façade proved beyond a doubt…

"MERLIN!"

Merlin's eyes shot open at the distress in the Prince's voice. Though he couldn't move, he quickly looked over Arthur for any sign of injury. Nope, he was intact with all limbs accounted for.

"Don't do that okay, don't just… I mean you were so still Merlin. I've seen men on the battlefield with more color after they've…"

Oh! Arthur was concerned for Merlin, how ironic. After all the times the Prince had recklessly endangered his own life and shattered all of the warlock's nerves he couldn't handle Merlin taking a little nap. It wasn't as if he was in serious danger. Gaius had given him something that lessened the pain to a dull throb.

"…don't care that you're just a servant. Well, you're not just a servant are you? You've faced a dragon and countless other magical beasts even though you've had no training. You're more loyal than most knights are and I wouldn't blame you if you hated me… but please don't. I couldn't take it if you hate me."

Merlin wished he could reassure Arthur that he didn't, nay couldn't hate the man that stood before him. Only his lips felt like two stones and his tongue a drought stricken field. Instead, he concentrated on communicating his absolute faith and trust through his eyes.

"Truth is you're the only real friend I've ever had. You're not a bootlicker and you tell me the truth even if it means being pelted with cabbage or …well yeah…"

Both Prince and manservant remembered the other punishments that Merlin had incurred for his truthful tongue. Then, almost as if to divert their thoughts from such a dark path, Arthur began again.

"And for an idiot, you just know what to say or do…you know… it's just, you can't not be here. You're irreplaceable. Just, stay."

Merlin lay taken aback at his master's candidness. Immediately he noticed the consequences of Arthur's fear in his master's physical countenance. His once wheat gold hair lay limply around his forehead soaked in swat and caked in dirt. Dark blemishes above his cheeks only served to highlight his bloodshot eyes and sunken face. His skin was pallid and sickly and it was obvious that the prince was deeply troubled. Merlin knew that he needed to reassure his friend. Magic thrummed beneath his skin, filling his veins with the white-hot gold feeling of false energy. He channeled all the supernatural strength within him into his unused vocal chords. The resulting sound was merely a raspy rattle of his chest that did more to startle Arthur than provide comfort. Frustrated, Merlin clenched his fist and concentrated on relaying a single message…

"Worry like…girl…be fine…prat".

The strain of a few words was too much for Merlin and before he collapsed, he made out Arthur's distinctive chuckle, Gaius's voice, and then, only darkness.

Due to his temporal disorientation, Merlin could not tell if his disturbing dreams lasted for minutes or hours. Sometimes the warlock wondered if his curse was to spend eternity between awareness and slumber. All he knew was insurmountable pain and horrifying dreams plagued with battalions of faceless mutilated men. Bodies of young, emaciated men with the flesh falling from their bones; bandages wrapped around victims wounds far beyond the help of medical science; lesions weeping with the fresh yellow-green pus of infection as well as the black seepage of rot; these were with what his unconscious haunted him.

In spite of all the horror, the voice startled him the most. It was sweet and melodious like the most innocent songbird, but strong as if laced with iron and venom alike. It spoke reassurances and consolations as easily as it made promises and accusations. The voice finally identified those mangled near corpses as images of himself.

"This is not your fate. The coin may be damaged but one half may repair the other. And one half may reconstruct itself…"

"…In order to understand the pain of suffering one must suffer. This is your test. You have neither passed nor failed. Pain makes us strong. It makes us cold or compassionate. You need to choose Emrys…"

"…Remember who you are…both who you've been and who you will be…"

"…Your destiny lies in your own heart. Listen to it and you shall never be lead astray…"

"…Emrys your name signifies what you are and what you will become…"

"…it portends your blessing as well as your curse…"

The cryptic messages passed through his mind nearly without comprehension, except, Merlin knew the voice. The horrific images of broken men and the nonsense spoken could not deny Merlin recognition. Only his fevered delirium and devastating fear could do that. As he continued, pondering on the identity of his hallucinated soothsayer, Merlin did not notice his breath faltering or his limbs shaking. Thus, he felt nothing except relief when an overwhelming sense of numbness surrounded his body believing that Gaius had made a more potent pain reliever. He did not feel his lungs shut down or his brain slowly suffocate from lack of oxygen. Even as the darkness that once encroached on the horizon of his foggy mind began to envelop him, Merlin remained unalarmed. As he went to sleep, the great and powerful Emrys did not feel his own death.

Review and tell me where the chapter title came from. You'll get a cookie. And no, I'm not above bribery.