A/N: I've received some questions about when this story is set in between A Second Chance and Stand, Speak, Listen, Learn. I'll do my best to clarify – sorry if it's confusion.

This takes a good eight or so years after the epilogue 'A Second Chance'. Balin (mentioned briefly in the first chapter of this story) is about seven or eight years old when Merlin and Arthur get taken to the past. This timeframe puts 'Recrudesce' about seven years after the first chapter of 'Stand, Speak, Listen, Learn', but several years before the main body of the story. (which I haven't gotten much into yet – I'm a bit stuck on the mid-beginning bit)

Hope that clarified some. On with the update!

The next morning, as they ate breakfast, Arthur tried to convince himself that he wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought he was. But damn it all, Merlin just wouldn't stop staring. There was something highly unnerving about having your best friend's younger self stare at you with such intensity, Arthur thought. But he didn't know if he was on good enough terms with this Younger Merlin to tell him off. Gaius didn't seem to notice. He'd had his nose stuck in a book all morning, even as he ate, the same book he'd pulled out after his discussion with Arthur. Eventually, Arthur snuck in a side-glare at the young Merlin, and the serving boy promptly looked away.

Why was he staring like that? He'd gotten his chance the past few days, anyway. Why bother now? Arthur was used to being looked at. One got stared at quite a bit when one was king, for better or worse. But of all people in the world, Merlin had never stared. Glared, occasionally, yes, but never stared like his younger incarnation was doing at that moment. Arthur ate his porridge and pretended that he didn't notice.

Had someone told Arthur that he'd get the chance to go back in time and see Camelot from fifteen years ago, meet himself and the people he knew at the time, he'd have to admit that it sounded rather exciting. Of course, Arthur hadn't ever given time travel much thought, but then, he was pretty sure that, had he spent even the shortest amount of time pondering the idea, he would never have come to the conclusion that it might be so boring. Which it was. Incredibly boring, in fact.

No one knew quite what to do with him. His appearance had caused a stir among those that knew who he was and where he was from. Uther was keen to figure who had sent him and why (Arthur himself was equally curious) and Gaius was working behind the scenes to find any information on time travel at all. Arthur himself, however, could hardly do anything. It was infuriating to be in one's own home as an alien. That's what they viewed him as, Arthur knew. He couldn't simply walk about the castle and expect for people to listen to him. Besides the people, the interior of the palace itself was no longer the same as he remembered it; there was no Round Table, no second throne, no training rooms for the Watch, and perhaps most irritatingly, the spire that Arthur only knew as Merlin's Tower was run-down, empty, and completely off-limits.

The fact was irritating because, back in the future-time that he remembered, if anything remotely strange or magical happened that had Arthur in a pickle, he had only to make the trek up to Merlin's tower of books and ask the warlock (who was far wiser and more intelligent that Arthur would ever admit) what the blazes was going on. Without fail, Merlin would know the answer. He'd pull up some memory or find a book, or, if all else failed, would think up some way to find the answer. It may take a while, but Merlin would find a way. He always did.

Arthur glared over at the unconscious sorcerer. He certainly was taking his time about it, the king thought.

After Young Merlin left to go attend to Arthur's younger self, Arthur spent the day helping Gaius in any way he could manage, and asked occasionally about Merlin. He watched with interest as the physician mixed together a pungent-smelling cocktail and poured a dose into a cup.

"The potion used to treat the lapses," Gaius explained to the displaced king as he watched over his shoulder. "I can't say if it'll work well on someone like Merlin, but until I finish my research, it should get him started back on the way to recovery."

"Will it wake him up?" Arthur asked as Gaius stood from his work bench.

"I can't say. It can't hurt him, but I'm not sure if it'll do any good, either. At this point, any progress will be better than none. Help me to sit him up, will you?" Arthur darted around to the other side of Merlin's cot and slid an arm underneath the comatose man's shoulders. Gaius reached a hand up to steady the warlock's lolling head as he pressed the cup to his lips.

"Hopefully he'll swallow it without trouble. I did make extra, anyway." Gaius opened Merlin's jaw and poured the watery medicine into his mouth. Although some spilled out of his mouth, Merlin swallowed most of it with minimal resistance, and something about seeing the man's adam's apple bob up and down so familiarly gave Arthur hope. Maybe this would wake Merlin up. He hoped so. Merlin was the only one who had a chance at knowing what they should do to fix their situation.

"Give me that cup of water, please," Gaius asked, and Arthur did so quickly. The physician tipped the clean water to Merlin's lips. "If this does wake him up, he won't thank me when he tastes that medicine. Best to get it off his tongue now, before he can complain." Gaius turned an inquisitive eyebrow to Arthur. "Does he still complain like he does now?"

Arthur couldn't help but smile. "Yes. Mostly to irritate me, I suspect." Gaius hummed in response and, after he was sure Merlin had swallowed everything he'd had put in his mouth and showed no signs of gagging, laid the man back down. He took the moment of attention on Merlin to re-examine him briefly. "Arthur," He asked as he checked the man's pulse, "I was meaning to ask you. When I was examining Merlin for injuries, I came across a rather peculiar scar, one I've never seen before."

"Oh?" Arthur asked, eyebrows coming down in thought.

"On his right thigh, a bit above his knee. Just here," the physician gestured to the area, although it was covered by Merlin's leggings, now. "Long and straight. It looks like a blade cut." He cast curious and worried – yes, Arthur could see that he was worried, even though he was trying to hide it – eyes on the royal. Arthur pursed his lips, considering his answer. He hadn't been burned yet by telling anyone in this past-era about the future; it was hard not to explain.

"It… was a blade cut. In a manner of speaking," Arthur said cryptically.

"How do you mean?" Gaius asked, and seeing the king's uneasy look, added, "I only wanted to make sure it hasn't caused any lasting damage that could affect his recovery. From the look of it, it must have been a serious injury."

Arthur sighed. "It was serious," he said, and avoided Gaius' eyes as he explained, "Long story short: there was a battle. Merlin was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He broke his leg – the femur bone, I remember you called it. The scar is from the surgery it took to set the bone."

Gaius' look of horror was tame, but grew as Arthur spoke. He looked down at Merlin, then back up at Arthur. "Can he – can he still walk?"

"What?" Arthur looked confused, "of course he can."

"It's just… injuries of that nature can cripple a man. For life."

Arthur understood, and was quick to assure Gaius, "No, believe me, he still runs around with as much energy as ever. Although sometimes he has to use – oh." Arthur looked suddenly glum. Gaius frowned.

"What is it?"

"Sometimes, his leg does get sore, and he uses a walking staff to ease the pain. A staff which did not, it appears, make it here with him." Arthur looked around the room quickly, as if to make sure that Merlin's staff wouldn't magically appear somehow. "He won't be too happy about that when he wakes up. He's rather fond of it," and Gaius couldn't help but notice the rueful tone behind Arthur's voice.

"Well," the physician reasoned, "we have plenty of walking sticks here, as well, if he needs them." Although the idea of his springy young ward one day needing a walking stick to aide a disability sustained in battle saddened him more than he might admit, Gaius was doing his best to be flexible.

"No," Arthur sighed annoyedly, "It's not just a walking stick – if it were, he would never suffer using it. It's a magic staff as well." Gaius's eyebrows rose. "He made it himself, and is far too proud of it, if you ask me." He resisted the urge to rub the spot on his head where Merlin liked whacking him. "I suppose I'll have to find something that will substitute when he wakes up."

"Right, well," Gaius said, peering down at his patient once more, "I'll look into it. But now, I've some more patients to tend to down in the lower town, and I still need to ask Merlin about the cure for the lapses… or, whatever he may have. I need details about his magic." He picked up his medical kit and strung it over one shoulder. "I'm not sure when I'll be back. Merlin usually comes back late, but then, you probably remember that." Gaius gave him a gracious smile, and Arthur smiled back, trying to shake the feeling that he was a tween being briefed by a concerned parent. "There's lunch in the pantry. I've asked for Guinevere to come help tend to Merlin while he and I are away. She knows you're here, and offered to cook dinner." Arthur felt his chest tighten and jump at the same time. Of course she did, he thought with a small smile.

"Thank you, Gaius."

"Of course Sire." The physician turned and, before got to the door, turned and added, "Arthur… I am sorry about keeping you cooped up like this. I hope you can understand," he said.

"It's alright, Gaius. I do understand. I only wish I could be of more help."

"Well, actually…" Gaius crept back towards the king. "There is… If you would like to start looking for something – anything, really – about time travel… I have a few special books hidden up in the back of that top shelf, there," Gaius motioned to a tall rack of books, and Arthur followed his gaze. "I've only kept them for sake of preservation. I've not looked in them for years. But perhaps…" He shrugged, and turned back away. "I'm sure you remember, though. Be careful."

"Of course, Gaius. Thank you." Arthur spared the physician with a strong, honest nod. He knew that keeping secret magic books were tantamount to treason in this time, and although he had grown accustomed to magic that was not evil, he knew his younger counterpart (and his father) would not be as forgiving. Gaius nodded several times, bid a final goodbye, and left.

Arthur climbed up to the shelf carefully, and pulled out a layer of dusty books to find a small collection of books, pressed sideways behind the others, flat against the back of the shelf. He pulled them all out and dusted them off. After a few moments of thought, he pulled out a few other non-magic books at random, with the intentions of hiding the magic books under them, should someone suddenly enter the room. Time with Merlin had made him a bit keener to these types of matters. He sat down at Gaius' bench and opened the first book. A cloud of dust erupted form the ancient pages and he coughed. Mercifully, the text was in English, but the font was dramatic and hard to decipher. He knew he'd have a headache before this was over.

"Oh, the things I do for you, you idiot," He said to Merlin. Naturally, the warlock did not answer.

"Has your Other Self woken up yet?" Arthur asked, trying to make his voice sound teasing. He was failing at it rather miserably. The situation was too strange.

"No," Merlin said as he shook out Arthur's sheets. "Gaius is trying to figure out what's wrong with him." But you already figured that out, Arthur, he wanted to say, because apparently your Older Self knows about my magic! Merlin had come to realize that it wasn't actually Arthur he was afraid of. He truly did believe that, one day, Arthur would be able to handle the truth about Merlin without killing him. After a lot of thinking, Merlin realized he wasn't afraid of Arthur finding out, of Arthur's reaction. He was simply afraid of him knowing.

And it wasn't just Arthur. Just the idea of people knowing – not just Gaius, or just Lancelot, but the idea of people, in general, publically knowing about Merlin's magic made him inexplicably terrified. Perhaps it was because it'd been drilled into him from the crib up that he mustn't ever let anyone know about his magic, maybe it was because he sometimes liked to pretend that he wasn't Emrys or that he didn't have a great destiny, or maybe it was merely the fact that it was all such a foreign concept, but somehow, something about the idea made Merlin terrified. He might have realized the fact before, but hearing the Older Arthur admit to Gaius openly about Merlin's magic slapped Merlin in the face with the reality that, should all go according to plan, one day everyone would know about him. Everyone.

He knew he should want that.

Shouldn't he?

"I haven't seen my Other Self walking about the castle, either," Arthur interrupted his thoughts. "It was uncanny, when he was in the hall talking to Father, Morgana and myself." He shook his head. "I'm not sure if I should avoid him or… or talk to him. It's strange."

"Mmm," Merlin agreed, picking up some discarded clothing. "Gaius is keeping him cooped up in his chambers for now. He's not sure it's a good idea for them to be interacting with us. He doesn't know much about time travel."

Arthur scoffed. "As if anyone would."

"Not anymore, I suppose," Merlin said easily. He only realized afterwards, when Arthur went silent, that he'd indirectly blamed Uther for their ignorance. Well, of course, no one would know about time travelling magic. Not after The Purge.

"Anyway," Arthur said after a while, "I'm not sure I want to think about it too long. But I promised Leon I'd train normally with him and the knights today, despite whatever odd circumstances might have appeared overnight." The prince did his best to look confident and uncaring of the strange magic that was plaguing his mind. "Grab my armor and let's go."

Merlin groaned and trudged over to the armor cupboard, wondering if his Other Self had to put up with Arthur's training sessions in the future.

A/N: But some strange stroke of inspiration, I've actually finished writing most of the next chapter of this story as well, so you'll be seeing that relatively shortly.