So this chapter is mostly dialogue, Arthur is just trying to get answers from Merlin, Merlin has his reasons for not telling. Just so you're warned, there is a moment of self harm, and that made Merlin seem really dark, but I wanted a moment where Merlin could really show Arthur the extent of his power.

Anyways, I need reviews. bad. Like badddd. So please do me a favor and review :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, even though I really really wish I did because Colin Morgan.

Chapter 4: Answers

Merlin dressed in silence while Arthur stayed off to the side, mulling in his own thoughts. He remembered back to when he had first awoken in this new world and had to learn to ride in a car, watch a T.V., use a phone, use a computer, and so on. The world had seemed so impossible. Yet, leave it to Merlin to be even more impossible than the evolution of society. He watched Merlin pull a white shirt over his muscular back (and since when had Merlin been muscular!?).

Arthur ached all over. He missed Gwen, Camelot, everyone and everything.

Merlin finished dressing, glancing over at Arthur and offering his best smile and dammit, even his smile was different. It wasn't as bright, not near as blinding. It was less like the sun, the shining light that brought Arthur home after every quest and war weighed too heavily on his mind. It was faded now, a sun obscured by a rainy day, or a thousand of them.

Arthur found himself yanked out of the room and into the bland hallway again. His manservant turned celebrity waved goodbye to a few people and hugged a few more because he was still Merlin and pulled Arthur towards a door. A large, muscular, black-version of Percival really, man was standing there, his arms crossed and feet placed shoulder-width apart. The man didn't even bother smiling at Arthur, and Arthur didn't question him. Sarah stood next to him, an equally serious look on her face.

Once they had stopped in front of the door, Merlin turned to Arthur and smiled, "I have to sign a few autographs before we can go, but you can wait in the car if you want."

"Who's that?" Arthur pointed to the large man.

"Who?" He followed Arthur's gaze to the tall figure, "Oh, him? He's my bodyguard."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"In case a fan gets out of control or something. Nothing serious." And before Arthur had time to respond, his bodyguard was yanking the door open and suddenly, the air was pierced with screaming.

At least a hundred or so fans were surrounding the door, held back only by a black rope and a couple of security guards. Merlin waved kindly to each of them, approaching them and signing a piece of paper and handing it back to them. He stopped and posed with a few of them, the entire time plastering a smile to his face.

Arthur stepped inside of the black car, glancing out at the flashing bulbs. It made him dizzy. It hurt his head. He felt overwhelmed and lost and wanted nothing more than to bury his head in his hands. He glanced back down at his hands, closing his eyes and wishing he could be in Camelot, sitting in bed with his wife discussing treaties and heirs and Merlin's latest failings. He wished for the red flags bearing a golden dragon instead of the golden bulbs outside. He craved a horse beneath him instead of the rumbling of an engine that logistically made no sense to him.

The door opened and Merlin clambered in, flashing a brief smile at Arthur, "Sorry I took so long."

"I didn't notice." It was the truth. He didn't. It had only seemed like a few minutes to him.

Merlin frowned before giving the driver directions to his hotel. He reached in his pocket, yanking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Kyle had smoked too so Arthur was familiar with it, but it had never been particularly appealing to him.

"You smoke?"

"Yeah." Merlin grimaced, "Trying to quit. It's not going very well."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Merlin blushed and shoved the cigarettes back into his pocket quietly. Arthur turned to stare out the window once again at the screaming fans in the distance. He felt Merlin shift and looked over at the phone he held. Something fancy, looked like a touch screen, he didn't understand. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the headrest.

Arms held in front of him, eyes liquid gold, and the men flew back, cracking their skulls open upon impact,

"You've been lying to me all this time."

Brown eyes, dark hair, a sweet smile and a hand on his arm, a crown on her head,

"Did you miss me?"

Merlin's smile in the midst of war, in the midst of facing a great dragon.

"I know it's hard for you to understand, but I care a hell of a lot about that armor"

He opened his eyes, turned his head to look at his manservant. To actually look at him. He remembered facing dragons, bandits, armies, gryphons, and sorcerers together, he remembered sleepless nights as Merlin gave him sound advice and comforting words, remembered how he could always count on finding Merlin on the ground amidst a battle. He remembered Merlin falling over his own feet, he remembered laughing, he remembered his best friend. All this time, he had thought Merlin was a coward. But no, that's not what he had been. He had been the bravest man Arthur had ever met. He was wiser than half of the advisors in the court and braver than any of his knights and the only servant in the entire kingdom that addressed him like an equal, that called him out when he was being a prat, that reassured him as a friend and not as a prince. Arthur had admired him, even when it had become known that he was a sorcerer and apparently a powerful one at that. Now, Merlin sat beside him, a complete stranger in an even stranger world. And how Merlin was still alive, after all these years, was surreal. Because no one could live forever.

"Are you okay?" Merlin was speaking to him, his words soft and quiet.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Tired."

"We're almost to the hotel. They're taking us to the back to avoid the crowds."

"Okay."

Sure enough, in five minutes, they were pulling outside a large building and Merlin was yanking him outside the car into the door. They took the stairs up because Arthur had never been an elevator and according to him, he "wasn't about to risk his life". They walked without a word.

Once Merlin had unlocked the door, Arthur slipped inside, glancing around the room, which was small but still extravagant. Directly inside the door was the kitchen, a simple bar lined up with various drinks (Arthur assumes alcoholic) pressed against the side where the bar met the wall. There was a dining table in the middle of the room, a few papers scattered on it and an open laptop with its screen black. Farther back, two couches were set against each wall, a coffee table in the middle and T.V. mounted on the wall in the corner. The double glass doors led to a porch, a small pool of water in the middle, surrounded by a few chairs.

"Do you want something to drink?" Merlin's voice snapped him out of his observing and he turned to see Merlin pouring a drink into a short glass, "I have pretty much everything. Any type of alcohol, you name it."

"I'll pass," Arthur said, "I'm not a heavy drinker like you are, Mr. I-Spend-Everyday-All-Day-In-The-Tavern."

Merlin rolled his eyes and let out a low laugh, slinking past him to sit at the dining table. He put his elbows on the table, the glass in one hand, observing Arthur in the same scrutiny Arthur had the room. "You know, it's strange."

Arthur moved to sit across from him, raising an eyebrow. He was a tad nervous, yes, he had so many questions, so many things that needed to be explained, but he was scared to know. Merlin had spent years lying to him and Arthur feared it was because Merlin was afraid of how Arthur would react. Not that any of it mattered now.

"I had forgotten what you looked like." Merlin flushed, looking down at the glass table, taking another sip of what Arthur thought to be scotch like his mate had drank.

Arthur leaned back, his hands on his knees as he glanced to his left just to avoid the guilty look on Merlin's face, "Did you?"

"I haven't seen you in a thousand years. I tried to remember what you looked like, but it was starting to fade. I mean," he leaned back, "I remembered the basics. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a right prat, but I couldn't picture you anymore. And then of course, there were all these legends saying you would be reincarnated so you probably wouldn't even look like you did," he was rambling and Arthur, for once, found he didn't mind. He let a small smile spread across his face as the boy muttered on.

"Then I saw you. I immediately recognized you."

Merlin stood up, downing the rest of his drink. Arthur frowned, "You're going to be smashed if you drink much more."

Merlin laughed, "I've been drinking for a thousand years now, Arthur. My alcohol tolerance has gotten high. And I did spend every day in the taverns, remember?" Merlin winked at that and Arthur was pretty sure he missed the inside joke on that one.

"Right."

Merlin frowned. He looked down at his drink as he sloshed it. He seemed to be thinking, but Arthur wasn't paying much attention. He had so many questions, hundreds of them. How was Merlin immortal? How powerful was Merlin? What happened to Camelot? Why had he returned?

Only one was important enough for Arthur to ask right away, "What happened to Gwen, Merlin?"

Merlin looked up, his eyes incredibly sad, "I knew you'd ask me about her. It's a long story, the whole of it, I'm not sure if I have time to tell it tonight."

"You're immortal, Merlin. You have all the time in the world." He snapped and when Merlin didn't say anything, "I have a right to know."

"I know you do. And I have so much to tell you, Arthur. I really do, but it isn't the right time."

Arthur clenched his jaw, "It's never the right time for you, Merlin. Do I have to die again for you to tell me another one of your secrets? Is that how you work? Only be honest when you're at risk of never seeing me again?"

Arthur had known Merlin long enough to be able to tell the signs of when Merlin was pissed off. He would bite his lip, look away, eyes smoldering and dark, he would clench his fist, only his left one though, and his breathing would slow. Merlin did none of these things now. Instead he just looked at Arthur with a defeated look, "I'm sorry."

"You had so many chances to tell me everything. And I know you almost did. At Ealdor, the Disir, the Witchfinder, when Gwen was being sentenced to death for curing her father? You almost did every time, but you never did. What stopped you?"

"I told you, Arthur." He whispered, and his eyes were cast downward, "You would have taken my head off."

"And I told you, I'm not sure what I would have done," he made sure to catch Merlin's eyes at that, but he frowned. Merlin didn't look any closer to telling him anything, "And I know you still have more secrets. So why can't you tell me now? It's not like it matters anymore, my opinion or decisions can no longer hurt you."

Merlin looked down at his cup, "She never remarried."

It was so quiet Arthur almost didn't hear it. Then Merlin finally raised his eyes to look at Arthur dead on, "She never remarried," he repeated, "she died of old age. Most of them did. All but Gwaine. He died the same day you did by the hand of Morgana."

Arthur stayed quiet. Something in him, a part of him he had been ignoring, lifted as he heard that Gwen had neither remarried nor died a premature death.

Merlin was focusing on a point behind Arthur's head, his eyes distant and voice hollow, "Gaius, Percival, Gwen, Leon, my mother, all of them died of old age."

"Are any of them…are any coming back? Have any come back?" He knew the answer, Mr. White had told him as much, but he hoped that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe they were back.

Merlin shook his head, "No. It's just me. Always has been."

Another part of him, the part that cared for Merlin as his best friend, twisted painfully. He hurt for Merlin. He hurt for himself. They would never see their friends again. And Merlin, poor Merlin, had been destined to walk this earth alone. What kind of cruel gods had decided Merlin's fate? And why had they had to wake up Arthur from his sleep?

"Did you see them?" Merlin started, "when you were dead, I mean. Did you see them?"

"No. It was like no time had passed at all. Last thing I remember was saying thank you, and then it felt like seconds later, I was drowning and stuck in some strange world," there was another pregnant pause, "….how?"

"How what?" Merlin whispered. He looked so tired. So unlike the Merlin he knew. Merlin had faced so many wars with him, so many angered sorcerers, he had been poisoned, beaten, verbally assaulted, lost people he loved, and yet he had always come out smiling. Whatever Merlin had faced in these years alone, it must have been truly horrible to wipe the immortal smile off Merlin's face and that truly scared Arthur.

"How are you," he made a gesture to Merlin, raising an eyebrow, "still here?"

Merlin shrugged, leaning back in his chair, "You apparently. My destiny was to wait for you, but none of the legends ever said why it would be necessary for me to be here when you woke up again. And none of them stated what would happen after we saved Albion. If I would die finally or if I would just continue to live on until the end of time."

Arthur laid his head on his hands, rubbing at his temples, "This is just all so much. I don't. There's so many things I don't understand. So many things I'm missing," he looked up at Merlin, surprised to see Merlin was already staring at him, "No more secrets, okay? No more."

Merlin nodded, looked thoughtful for a second, "I could give you the short version, you know," Arthur didn't respond, just continued to stare at Merlin, who was still pondering something, "I defeated the immortal army-"

"What?"

"The immortal army. I defeated the Saxons, that skeleton army, I forbid the dragon from ever attacking Camelot again, I killed Nimueh, the Questing Beast, the Griffin, Cornelius, and like at least a fifty bandits. Damn," Merlin, who was ignoring Arthur's very blank face, shifted, seeming frustrated, "I think I've forgotten half of it. But I know there was at least a hundred times I saved your royal ass. I just don't remember it all."

There was silence. Arthur was trying to digest everything. Mostly, it was hard for him to wrap his mind around Merlin being powerful enough to do even half of those things. He'd only seen Merlin use truly powerful magic once, his hands extended as he sent the two Saxons flying backwards, their hearts stopping before they even touched the ground. It had been the one time Arthur had ever feared his manservant, the one time he wanted to run away. But even after that, Arthur had never imagined Merlin to be capable of any of this.

"There is more to tell you. So much more, but really, Arthur, I am tired." Merlin finally finished. He stood up, grabbing his glass and walking towards the kitchen.

As he passed Arthur, Arthur reached out to grab his forearm, yanking him back. Merlin looked down at him through dark lashes. His words were a mere whisper, "You will tell me one day, won't you, Merlin? Promise me?"

Merlin seemed to sag under that, "I want to, I do. But..," he looked down and Arthur's stomach churned at the rejection, why couldn't Merlin trust him yet? "I've forgotten some of it, Arthur. I'm sorry, but I have. I remember the big events, but," he seemed so entirely sad that Arthur almost reached out to hug him, but no matter their relationship, that had never been something they had done, "the small details, they're gone, Arthur. When I try and think about them, it's like…it's like trying to think about my life, how it will never end. How there is no end to it, it just keeps going on and on. I can't wrap my head around it, it makes my head hurt. Trying to remember Camelot, the details, the way all of you looked, I can't see it. It's all blurred out, there are snippets, but they're more like facts, not memories. Camelot is all a series of facts I've remembered, the actual memories are so….it hurts my head to think about it, to try and remember. I'm sorry, I'll tell you all I remember, I have some of it written down somewhere, but that's all I can do."

He's forgotten, Arthur thought to himself as he watched Merlin's eyes well with tears, he's forgotten all of us. Merlin looked so distraught over the whole thing and it hurt Arthur, because he didn't blame him for forgetting. Arthur could barely remember what he did when he was twelve, he doubted Merlin could remember what he did over a thousand years ago.

Merlin looked close to breaking and so Arthur stood, placed an arm on his shoulder and tried his best to put on a brave face. With a memory of sun streaming in through a window to a crouched figure on the floor the morning after his father's death, he recited, "I don't want you to feel as if you are alone."

Merlin searched his eyes for a moment. There was a second where Arthur thought he saw recognition, but it faded quickly and Merlin frowned. Soon, I'll get him to remember.

"Merlin."

Merlin, who had been looking down at his phone, glanced up. The guarded eyes were on yet again, "Yes?"

"Morgana. She was a high priestess. A creature of old magic. You're one in the same, right? Was she immortal?"

Merlin bit his bottom lip and shifted his weight to his other foot. "Yes and no. I think she would have been if I hadn't killed her. But I don't know. Mordred and Morgana were the only other ones of the old religion. And they faced the same death by Excalibur."

"My sword?"

Merlin nodded, "Only sword that could kill them."

"It was just a sword."

"No. It was forged in the dragon's breath. Only a magic as powerful as the dragon's can kill someone like us."

"So Mordred would never have died from the Disir?" He remembered Mordred being dangerously close to death. He remembered thinking it a miracle Mordred had survived.

Merlin's eyebrows drew together for a second and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, "I'm not sure. The Disir were the highest and most sacred court of the Old Religion. I shouldn't have said we were the only three. There was the Disir, the Sidhe, and so on."

"Is that true for you too? That only a sword like that could kill you?"

Merlin shrugged, treating it like it was a question about what he had for dinner and not whether or not he could die, "So far it would seem that yes, that's the only thing that could kill me."

He looked upset. Arthur felt a strange hollowness grow in his chest, "What do you mean, 'so far'?"

His friend suddenly cast his eyes down, looking ashamed for a second, but also strangely proud, "I fought wars while you were gone, Arthur. Every time England, Albion, went to war, I would join. I always hoped you would already be there, helping Albion in its time of need. But you never were. And –"

"You fought in wars? You were never much of a fighter. I mean even with your magic. Even then, you couldn't have used it there and you were no expert with a sword."

"They were a different kind of war then you fought in, Arthur. Different weapons, different strategies. There are guns. I don't know if you've seen one yet," Arthur shook his head because he'd heard of them, how they could kill someone from a distance, but never seen one, "well, it can kill with one hit. Easily. I got hit one time, in the chest, right by my heart, Well here," he suddenly walked past Arthur into the kitchen, pulled a knife out of the drawer and came back to stand by Arthur. Arthur's heart accelerated.

Merlin held the blade out to his wrist. Arthur's heart stopped. He dragged the blade vertically up his arm. His skin split and spewed forth blood. Arthur shot forward, grabbing Merlin's forearm.

"What the hell, Merlin?!" He pulled his sleeve down, pressing it against the cut (despite Merlin's 'no, don't', damn it, now I have to wash the blood out. Why can't you just leave things be). He wasn't an idiot. They had had a servant kill himself back in the day by slitting his wrist. Horizontally just inflicted pain, vertically allowed you to bleed out. Vertically killed you, "Are you fucking mad?!"

Merlin gave a frustrated sigh, yanking his arm away, the blood dripping down his arm to the floor, "Would you just, chill. Watch. Trust me."

So despite Arthur's frantic heart, he watched. He watched the blood that had just been slowly making its way down his arm pull back into the cut itself. He watched as the split skin nearest to his elbow slowly stitched itself back together as if by an invisible force. It moved up, kept sewing, until the cut was fully closed and slowly a scab formed. The scab quickly changed to skin, an angry red line that quickly diminished into a pale pink puckered scar. Seconds later, the raised skin flattened and a very unnoticeable scar, the color only slightly different from the rest of Merlin's arm and the width no wider than that of a strand of hair, appeared on his arm where the spewing gash had been only minutes earlier.

Merlin pulled back and Arthur stared dumbfounded, "The deeper the cut, the worse the scar. But it's always just that: a scar. When I got shot, I should have died. Anyone else would have, but my body forced the bullet out. It hurt like hell, but it never killed me. They never do. There were so many times I should have died. I got shot in the head," he moved his hair to show a small scar right below his roots, "but the bullet never even touched my skull. It just broke the skin and then bounced off."

His head hurt. His manservant, and really he had to stop thinking about him like that, had just confessed to him that basically he was invincible. And really that should be a relief, it meant Arthur wouldn't be losing him anytime soon, but it scared Merlin. Merlin scared him. Not Merlin his manservant, that Merlin had been clumsy, harmless as a kitten, foolish, hilarious and loyal as well. Merlin the immortal, invincible warlock was truly frightening.

Merlin seemed to sense his discomfort, "I didn't know how else to show you, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well next time, do something less moronic and dramatic, got it? Holy shit, Merlin," He dropped his head into his hands. "Holy hell, have you always been able to do that?"

"No. Just after the Crystal Cave," Arthur had no idea what he was saying or talking about, but okay, sure, "but that's a story for another night, yeah?"

Arthur just nodded.

"Will you come back with me? To America, I mean," He suddenly mumbled.

Arthur laughed, a small part of it bitter and full of self-pity. But really, he shouldn't complain, "It's not like I have anywhere else to go, Merlin."

"Right. Well, I'm going to make a phone call to get you a ticket. The flight will be pretty early. So you can sleep in the bed in there," he pointed to a door on the right, "I'll take the couch."

Arthur stood, because honestly, he was so done with today anyway. Merlin watched him go and when Arthur opened the door to walk into the bedroom, he heard Merlin call out, "Sleep well! Sorry for the heart attack!"

His voice was cheery, slightly amused, mostly teasing and Arthur found himself smiling as he kicked the door closed behind him. For a second there, it felt like Merlin again. As he laid down, he made a mental checklist in his head, titling it 'Things That Must Be Done in This Stupid World'

1. Find out why he has returned.

2. Find out all the secrets Merlin was hiding

3. Learn about guns

4. Tell Merlin to quit being stupid and doing stupid shit that makes Arthur have a cardiac arrest

5. Learn why everyone in this world is in such a hurry all the time

6. Learn how to "Text"

7. Tell the world that their music was trash

8. Visit Camelot

9. Help Merlin remember. Help Merlin no matter what.

Review please, please, please. it helps encourage me to write another chapter. :))