A/N: Again, I would like to thank everyone for the positive response. I have most of this story planned out; it's just a case of putting things in the right order and typing everything up. It has turned out much darker than I originally planned. For that I apologise, but hopefully it will make the happy times that bit more rewarding. Thanks again to the people that left reviews, favourited or followed. It really means a lot. Also my spell checker insists on reverting to English (U.S.) despite me being from the U.K. so I apologise for any inconsistent spellings I may have missed when editing.
Anyway, I'll stop blabbering on and get to what you're all here for:
Chapter 4.
Merlin was unsure how he'd managed to drag himself home. Despite seeing Arthur, the emptiness was back. A dark cloud had wrapped itself around Merlin. It engulfed him, leaving him flat and empty. He crawled into bed, in the process, knocking an empty vodka bottle from the night stand.
Merlin winced at the clatter it made but he didn't pick it up. He didn't have the energy. Somewhere in between getting home and flopping into bed Merlin had reversed the aging spell.
His joints no longer ached though he wished they did. At least then he would feel something other than the vast emptiness consuming his soul.
He buried his face in his pillow in an attempt to block everything out. The urge to scream built up inside him though he forced it back down. All this time he'd waited for the King to return. Waiting and waiting and finally beginning to accept that it wasn't meant to be. But now he'd glimpsed Arthur twice in one day only for him to be snatched away both times.
It hurt that Arthur had not known who he was though Merlin could hardly blame him. Arthur had seen Merlin in his disguise numerous times. It was only towards the end that Arthur had learnt his true identity. Plus Arthur had looked pretty out of it at the hospital. Once he regained his senses he would remember. As long as the doctors didn't manage to brainwash Arthur first. The thought made Merlin feel queasy. He screwed his eyes tight and tried to push the thought away.
At some point Merlin must have fallen into an uneasy sleep. In the back of his mind he knew he was dreaming but he could not drag himself to consciousness.
Arthur was there. He was gagged and bound to a hard wooden chair. He strained against his restraints thought they did not give. There were angry red welts on his wrists where the straps cut into the skin .Panicking Merlin ran towards his friend. He was only a couple of feet away when Marlin collided with a glass wall blocking his path. Merlin banged on the glass in a futile attempt to get through. Arthur could not hear him. After what seemed like hours of pounding Merlin gave in. He focused all his remaining energy on directing his magic at the glass wall. He concentrated until he could focus no more. There was a tingling in his fingers where the power had gathered. He unleashed it in the direction of the glass, eyes squeezed shut. Eventually, he looked up. Nothing had happened.
No wait. Something had happened. Arthur had noticed Merlin though there was no recognition in his eyes. He was panicked, struggling even more than before. That look pierced Merlin's heart like a dagger. It was worse than the realisation that his magic was useless. Merlin watched transfixed as a woman entered Arthur's room. She was dressed as a nurse and wore a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She glared at the wizard before turning her back to him. She produced a large syringe from her pocket.
Screams filled the room. Merlin's eyes snapped open and he sat up before he realised it was he that was screaming. He was covered in cold sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. His heart was pounding. His head was spinning. He felt sick.
Merlin sat on the edge of his bed pondering what to do next. He needed to see Arthur. It was far too early for visiting hours. Who knew what would happen if Merlin came bursting into the hospital at this time in a morning. But then again who knew what would happen if Merlin did not arrive before the doctors started their treatment.
As the war raged on inside his head Merlin's gaze fell onto the bottle on the floor. He picked it up and unscrewed the lid. He brought the bottle to his lips before realising there was nothing left inside. He threw the bottle to the opposite wall. It bounced off the wall and rolled away. Typical, Merlin thought. He couldn't even smash a bottle properly. He sighed and placed his head in his hands.
Arthur was in a daze. He had no idea what was going on. Everything about this place was so foreign and it was starting to freak him out. From the way people spoke to the clothes they wore to the decor. Everything was strange. It was an awful lot to take in.
A pretty woman had helped Arthur into a chair. A chair with wheels he realised with a jolt and pushed him to another room.
'I'm going to take you to another ward Arthur ' she explained. 'One where they are better equipped to help you,'
Arthur nodded though he didn't really understand what was happening. He was being pushed down a corridor in a chair with wheels. Maybe that was how royalty was treated in this part of the world.
The woman took Arthur through a pair of double doors.
'Arthur!' Someone called his name. Arthur turned to see them approaching. A hunched over old man with a tangled grey beard to match his long grey hair. He hobbled towards them. Arthur was unsure how the old man knew his name. He struggled to focus on the man's face, trying to place where he knew him from. There was something about him. Something in his eyes. There was a small familiar glint hidden somewhere underneath a mask of sadness. 'You look familiar' Arthur whispered.
The sadness in the familiar stranger's eyes seemed to intensify. For some reason Arthur felt the need to reach out and hug this man. He wanted to hug him and never let go. He was aware of the man and woman exchanging words but they washed over him. The next thing he knew, Arthur was being wheeled away once more.
The woman took Arthur to another room. It was more or less identical to the previous room he was in. Pristine and white. Minimal decor. He was helped into the bed. He wanted to protest but found his lungs burned when he pushed himself too much.
'You get some sleep. The doctor will be by in the morning to conduct some tests,'
Before Arthur could respond she had hurried out of the room. He flopped his head back onto the pillow. The image of the old man would not leave his mind. There was something about him. Eventually, Arthur drifted into a fitful sleep.
The following morning Arthur was awoken by Dr. Holden.
"Good morning, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked. There was what Arthur could only describe as an eager look in his eyes.
Arthur sat up slightly. His head was still clouded. It hurt to think too much and his muscles ached.
"Not my best," Arthur answered truthfully.
"Well you seem to be recovering well from your accident," the doctor told him.
Arthur nodded. He was aware now that he had been found floating in a lake with a lungful of water. Though he was completely stumped at how he had ended up there. It hurt his head to think too much about it. The place was already confusing enough without worrying about how he'd gotten there.
"However, we are concerned that there may be an… underlying condition," the doctor continued. There was a peculiar tone to his voice.
What was the man talking about? Arthur was as fit as a fiddle. He always had been. Besides the current dull ache in his head that was.
"What are you talking about?" Arthur protested. "I am fine,"
"We'd like to run some tests regardless. Just to be on the safe side,"
Arthur sighed, wondering whether he should comply. There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that he could not quite explain. He wondered if Guinevere or Merlin had been alerted of his whereabouts yet.
"Where is my wife?" Arthur asked "and my manservant?"
The doctor paused for a fraction of a second. "I am working on contacting your next of kin. In the mean time I would like to run a few tests,"
There was something odd about the way the man spoke to him. His exterior had seemed warm and comforting, but underneath there was something that worried Arthur. The doctor seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. It was as if he was guarding a secret. Dr. Holden was certainly treading lightly for some reason. Perhaps it was because of his status, Arthur wondered. The doctor certainly wouldn't want to upset the King of Camelot. That was it. Arthur was used to people acting differently around him. It came with the territory of being a ruler.
"Do what you must," Arthur said finally.
Dr. Holden offered a warm smile. "Thank you. A nurse will come shortly to get a blood sample,"
"What?!" Arthur felt the colour drain from his face. They wanted to take his blood? Why in the world would they want to do that?
"Don't worry. It's only a slight prick. Just to make sure there's no… impurities," the doctor explained.
Arthur said nothing. He was not comforted by Dr. Holden's words. But the man was a doctor. He knew what he was doing, or at least Arthur hoped he did. Arthur leaned his head back on his pillow and mused to himself. This was certainly different to a trip to the court physician in Camelot.