Past and Present Danger

A/N: Next update here for your enjoyment (hopefully). Thanks for the reviews; it was lovely to receive a few more for the last chapter. Please let me know what you think of this one as well!

Chapter 5

'Gaius!' Prince Arthur yelled as they arrived at the physician's chambers. Merlin grimaced slightly, that hadn't been how he'd wanted Gaius to find out about the situation. He followed after the Prince, while his young self followed behind. Arthur had suggested, strongly, that the first thing they needed was to check that the boys were healthy. Merlin had agreed wholeheartedly, knowing that he needed to get his head injury checked as well, but was less than amused when Arthur suggested, again strongly, that Merlin take the boys while Gwen made up a room for them and he attended his kingly duties. He wasn't sure who had been less impressed with Merlin 'baby sitting,' him or the young Prince; however, when Gaius' name was mentioned the boy perked up considerably and had all but raced to Gaius' chambers.

Merlin looked around the room trying to spot his old friend and was hit, as he always was on visiting the room, with a poignant sense of longing. He had loved living with Gaius for all those years; the man was his father in everything but blood. The room was still settled in an organised sense of chaos, with potions and herbs and books and scrolls spread out all over the place. Merlin smiled as he looked round the room, but quickly stopped when he met the gaze of the old physician.

'Gaius, do you know who I am?' Arthur was asking, almost desperately. Gaius glanced down at him and then back at Merlin.

'I have a terrible feeling I do, young man,' he replied. 'Could I speak to you for a moment please, Merlin,' he continued. When two people stepped forward at the request Gaius straightened up and fixed his friend with a stare that made Merlin feel like he was the six year old.

'He means me,' Merlin whispered to the dark haired boy by his side. I'll be back in a moment.' He walked towards his old room, where Gaius was already waiting. 'And don't go anywhere,' he added turning back to the boys, but directing his words towards Arthur. The boy huffed and then sat down on a stool.

Closing the door behind both of them, Gaius sighed heavily. Merlin didn't turn round to face him straight away; he had never liked being told of by Gaius and he had a feeling that was what was on its way. Instead he looked around his old room. His bed and furniture was still there, but most of the corners of the room were now taken up by magic books and artefacts that the old physician had started collecting again after Arthur had lifted the ban on magic. It made Merlin feel like a part of himself was still in the room.

'What happened, Merlin? Are those two who I think they are?'

'Yes,' was his whispered reply.

For the first time since finding the boys, Merlin allowed the severity of the situation to sink in. He sat down on the bed slowly and put his head in his hands.

'I don't know what to do, Gaius. I mean, Morgana managed to open a door to the past-'

'A door to the past?' Gaius asked, his shock evident.

'Yes, a door to the past,' Merlin repeated. 'She must have been planning it for months; I don't know how she did it, what spell she used and I don't know why those two,' he gestured towards the door, 'ended up now, in this time, when I managed to stop her.' He looked desperately at Gaius, no longer the court sorcerer, but the young, confused, clumsy warlock who more often than not guessed his way through magical incursions and hoped for the best.

'Merlin.'

'Gaius, what do I do?' Gaius stared at him for several seconds and then smiled gently, before sitting next to him on the bed.

'Oh, my boy.' He sighed again and patted Merlin on the shoulder. 'I don't know how you get yourself into these scrapes.'

Merlin looked at him and nodded slowly, not quite amused by the man's words, but comforted by the affection and understanding in them.

'Arthur expects me to be able to send them back, but I don't know where to start.'

'I will help you, Merlin. You are much more powerful than Morgana. You will be able to do this; it just might take some time. Now, tell me exactly what happened.'

Merlin spent several minutes explaining everything to Gaius in detail; he tried to describe the light as accurately as he could, the way the spheres worked, how Morgana acted and what happened when her spell backfired. How he had transferred the magical protection on himself and Arthur onto the children and how they had been thrown back by the explosive force. Gaius listened quietly, nodding at different points, which encouraged Merlin on. When he had finished the silence hung in the air for several seconds.

'I can't tell you much, but I believe I may know why the younger versions of yourself didn't go back.'

'Why?'

'The magic that you transferred onto them was from now, it wasn't from the past. When the spheres collapsed, they probably left each person on the side that they sensed they were from. With your magic –magic from the current time- covering the boys, it would have felt right to leave them here.'

Merlin felt his heart sink at the words. That made sense and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the correct explanation.

'So this is my fault. Again.'

'Had you not done what you did, all four of you would be dead by now. You had no choice, Merlin.'

He turned away and stared at the wall. Gaius was right of course, but that didn't make him feel any better.

'I need to find a way to put this right.'

'You will. In the meantime, what do you want to do with the two young men that are in my chambers?'

Merlin groaned and put his head in his hands again.

'This is going to sound biased,' he lowered his voice, 'but little me is fine, not a problem. A bit too timid,' he frowned. 'I'd tried to punch Arthur within the first two minutes of meeting him.'

'Merlin, this Arthur is only five years-'

'Seven,' Merlin told him. 'Merlin's six and Arthur is seven. Trust me: you don't want to get that wrong.'

'What I mean to say is that Arthur is only young. Why would Merlin fall out with him?'

'Why wouldn't he? Gaius, he's worse than Arthur when I first met him.'

'I don't remember Arthur being like that when he was young, not to the extent that you seem to think.'

'Well, you are more than welcome to look after him for a few hours,' Merlin offered, the thought of being free of both Arthurs a lovely one.

'Perhaps Merlin, you need to put yourself in his shoes.'

'He's made it clear that I can't do that. You know he called me and…me, peasants.'

'Merlin, this is a seven year old Arthur who is scared and confused and doesn't know what to do. Of course he's going to lash out. In many ways, Arthur does the same now.' Gaius gave him a pointed look and Merlin forced himself to consider what was being said. It was true that Arthur was rudest to him and sharpest with those around him when he was unsure or worried, and that was after years of learning to control his emotions. Reluctantly he conceded the point.

'Now,' Gaius told him, 'let's see what we can do about your head and while I'm doing that you can speak to Arthur.' Merlin suppressed a grown, but nodded.

When they went back into the chambers, the two boys were locked in an uneasy silence. Merlin was occupying himself by inspecting the many vials that covered Gaius's desk. He was stooped over, peering at them with a frown on his face, picking a few up and inspecting them more closely. At the sound of the door shutting sharply behind Gaius as he walked down from the bedroom, the boy promptly dropped the one in his hand. In a split second both Merlins had stretched out their hands to stop the vial, but the combined spell proved too much for the glass container and it shattered in mid-air.

From across the room Arthur tried to roll his eyes in disdain, but his fear at the blatant use of magic was obvious.

'Sorry,' the dark haired boy called nervously, scrambling to pick up the pieces.

'Don't worry. Merlin has done a lot more than that over the past few years,' Gaius smiled.

'I'll clear it up,' the boy continued, rushing to find a broom. He quickly found one and occupied himself with tidying.

Merlin left him to it and went and sat down where Gaius indicated. The physician quickly gathered a few supplies and began tending to Merlin's wound. He hissed as the first bit of salve hit his tender skin and ignored the tut from Gaius at his whimpering. Across the other side of the room, Arthur hovered nervously, watching the old man at his work. As the procedure continued he began to edge closer, while Merlin continued to hiss as Gaius pressed a bandage against the scrape.

'If you're so powerful,' Arthur began hesitantly, 'why can't you just use…' he stopped and shook his head, scowling deeply.

'…magic?' Merlin supplied. Arthur said nothing, he didn't even nod; he just stared at Merlin. He felt Gaius press the bandage particularly hard against his wound and he took the hint. 'Well, it's easier to heal injuries if you can see them,' he explained. 'Gaius would do a better job than me, magic or not. And plus, Gaius is the best physician in Albion… but you must know that already.' For the first time the boy's expression softened, but as if catching himself he straightened up and backed away.

'I make sure I don't get injured,' he muttered before retreating to the other side of the room. Inwardly, Merlin sighed and turned to look at Gaius, who just smiled, offering no sympathy.

'There, you'll be fine, Merlin. Make sure you come and get them changed regularly.' Tenderly touching the bandages, Merlin grimaced but nodded. 'Now, let's have a look at you two,' the physician continued, looking at the boys in turn.

Arthur turned over in bed again and scowled into the pillow when he found he still wasn't comfy. It was terrible that he –the Prince of Camelot- should have to sleep in a spare room, like a visitor in his own castle, especially when his real room was just across the corridor and was being used by a strange and untrustworthy older version of himself and his wife. Arthur shuddered at the thought. Even so, he had to admit that out of everybody –not including Gaius of course-, it was Gwen that he disliked the least. She wasn't a sorcerer and she wasn't a stupid king who'd forgotten everything his father had taught him. She seemed kind and understanding. She had reassured him earlier, told him that he had lots of years to live to get to where she was now, to where King Arthur and Merlin, the court sorcerer, were.

He had told her that he would never allow magic into Camelot and she hadn't argued with him. Instead, she had said that she knew he was wise and clever and a good leader, and that when the time came he would make the right decisions. He hadn't been able to argue with that; he hadn't wanted to. She had told him that everyone would do everything they could to keep him safe and that she would look after him. For some reason he believed her.

Obviously, however, she hadn't understood what it meant to look after a prince properly; that explained the guest room. And what was worse was the fact that he had to share! He, Arthur Pendragon, had to share a room with none other than a stupid peasant boy who apparently had never even slept in a bed before, if his reaction earlier was anything to go by. Guinevere had shown them to the room and Merlin, the idiot boy, had stood in the doorway for a full minute looking around the place as if it was made of gold and diamonds before walking over to the bed, staring at it as if he hadn't got a clue what it was and then climbing into it, with all his clothes still on, just to try it out. It was a bed for goodness sake! He sighed again.

'Are you still awake?' Merlin's voice floated over from the other side of the room. Arthur considered ignoring the boy, but was too wide awake to sleep anyway.

'What does it matter if I am?'

'I just wondered,' Merlin whispered. 'Can't you sleep?'

'Isn't that obvious?'

Arthur thought he sounded irritated enough that the silly boy, a sorcerer no less –Arthur pushed the fact from his mind-, would leave him alone, but he carried on. Arthur both admired and loathed his persistence. How rude did he have to be before Merlin got the hint?

'Are you scared about something?'

'No, of course I'm not scared. I'm the Prince; I don't get scared. Only wimps like you do.'

'You're not scared that we're trapped twenty years ago and that they don't know how to send us back and that an evil witch tried to kill us and we might never see our families again?' Merlin asked, a mix of awe and disbelief in his voice.

Arthur closed his eyes as they began to sting with tears at the words. He pulled the blanket more tightly around him and curled his legs up, wanting to block out what Merlin had said. He was the Prince and princes didn't get scared.

'No,' he replied fiercely, but his voice caught on the word and he felt his face grow hot at his evident weakness. That was it: now Merlin would make fun of him, call him a baby and tell him that he was scared and frightened. That was what he would do, that's what all his friends would do and so they should. He had to be strong all the time, no matter what. That was what his father was like. He never got scared, he always knew what to do and what to say to people. Princes couldn't be scared.

'I'm sure it will be alright,' Merlin said instead, much to Arthur's surprise. He pushed himself up in the bed, but in the pitch black of the room he couldn't make out anything. 'Merlin will work it out.'

'You only think he'll be able to do it because he's you. You just want to think that you're clever,' Arthur snapped.

'I'm not clever; I can't do any of the things that he can do.'

'Magic isn't clever: it's wrong and it's evil and if my father was here you'd both have been executed by now.' Arthur didn't raise his voice –he didn't want the adults to hear and come and tell him off- but he made sure that he sounded angry and serious, because he was. How could the King let magic into the land? It was the most terrible thing that could happen in Camelot. His father would have hated it. Why hadn't he stopped it? But Arthur knew why. Nobody had said it and he hadn't asked, but he knew that in this time his father was dead. Maybe Merlin had even killed him to bring back magic, maybe Merlin was enchanting the King right now and had been all along. That was the only explanation he could think of because he knew that he –Arthur Pendragon- would never let magic back into Camelot.

'I don't understand,' Merlin's voice suddenly murmured from the darkness. Arthur frowned; he'd thought that the last comment would have shut the boy up. Didn't he ever stop talking?

'Well I'm not surprised. Where you come from I bet people can't even read or write.'

'I just don't understand,' he repeated as if he hadn't heard. This irritated Arthur further. What was wrong with this boy? If he'd said half of these things to anybody back home they would have run off crying by now. When the boy didn't continue, Arthur was annoyed to find that he actually wanted to know what he was talking about.

'What don't you understand?' he snapped.

'Why Merlin, I mean old me,' he added for clarification, 'would ever have made friends with old you. If you were this mean to him, why would he ever want to spend time with you?' Merlin really did seem to be confused. He didn't say it spitefully like Arthur would have done, his voice was gentle and sort of sad. Arthur was furious when he felt slightly ashamed by the words.

'I don't want to be friends with you now or any time in the future.'

'But you will be one day. One day we will be friends. Merlin and Arthur are really good friends and they're just us from the future.'

'Merlin and you,' Arthur began matter-of-factly, 'are evil sorcerers and I know that the only reason Arthur's his friend is because Merlin has put a spell on him. I won't let you do that in the future.'

'Merlin hasn't put a spell on him,' Merlin replied, and finally he did seem annoyed.

'How would you know?'

'Because I know that I'd never do that. It would be wrong to do that to someone,' he replied firmly. 'And Arthur would be angry with you if you ever said that about Merlin.'

'You don't know anything about Arthur. I am him, I know what he thinks,' Arthur replied, making sure that he laughed to show Merlin just how much of an idiot he was being.

'I don't think you're anything like him,' Merlin replied quietly. 'He's much kinder, nicer, cleverer and happier than you are.'

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but found that his throat seemed to have closed off. He swallowed and tried again, but he knew that when he spoke, he would sound stupid and frightened and babyish. Slowly he lay back down on his bed, Merlin's final words repeating over and over again like an echo in the room. He tried to fight them, tried to blink them away, brushing at his face furiously, but in the end he was powerless to do anything. He wanted to go home; he wanted his father; he wanted everything to go back to what it had been like. He wanted Merlin and King Arthur and Guinevere to go. He hated them all, hated everything about this stupid place where nothing was right and everything was different to how it should be. The tears rolled down his face as he finally fell asleep.

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