Arthur knew the type so well. He had experienced it before. They weren't gay, or didn't have any inclinations. Which gave them a reason for their violence towards him. It was his fault.

They had driven to the junction of the motorway and just past, turning into a slip road that was led to the road works a little way down. They turned a little further off the track, into the trees and they had turned on the inside light. Arthur had said nothing, asking why they were stopping was a stupid question.

"Have you ever had four men one after the other?" the man on his left asked, his hand was clamped on Arthur's groin.

"No," Arthur had said calmly. Actually he wasn't lying. When he was raped by the men in the van there had been five of them. He had never had four. They all opened their doors, the man who had hold of him had pulled him out.

Now he was bent over the door to the back of the estate car. His trousers were down around his ankles and his hair was being yanked by the man thrusting into him. They had just opened their trousers, freed their cocks and fucked him, one after the other. Arthur grimaced at every thrust; the current man's belt buckle prodded into the flesh of his backside on every entry. Arthur tried to move to make it easier and was bashed around the back of his head.

"Stop wriggling."

Arthur stopped. He knew they would take any excuse as a reason to hurt him. Staring out blankly his heart sank, it looked like the man who had been first was trying to stoke up for another go. Arthur couldn't actually feel humiliated. His life was past that, what he did feel was bored, and tired, and part of his mind wouldn't just piss off. It happily told him that if he hadn't run away from the man who was claiming to be his father, he wouldn't be in this mess, no one would be doing this to him. Fathers didn't allow this to happen to their children.

So where had he been for so many other years. Arthur couldn't work that out. He didn't really want to know.

He snapped back to the present as the thrusts got sharper. Arthur winced as he felt the pin of the belt buckle slam into the flesh of his backside. As the pain rippled through him he was fairly certain it had been stabbed into him. He gritted his teeth as the man gave one last thrust and came, his hand tensing in Arthur's hair, pinning him down. Arthur's stomach churned as he felt the wetness of the man's orgasm. He could feel the tension in the man's thighs as they pressed against his, than thankfully that bloody belt buckle had somehow been pushed away from him.

There were two softer thrusts, as an after effect and then the man yanked out of him. Arthur felt the semen tricking down between his legs. He was coated with it now. Four men had fucked him. He started to lift his head a little as the man stepped away from him, laughing as he tried to find something to wipe himself on. Blearily Arthur started to straighten up, and then he was pushed down, his sore shoulder pushed, causing another wave of pain.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Arthur dropped down again, resting his forearms on the boot space in front of him and putting his head down, futilely aware of his backside displayed to the world. The first man was almost ready again, he wanted another go. Arthur settled down to wait for it and jumped as he prodded the weeping wound where the belt buckle had stabbed him.

"You made him bleed."

The chorus of laugher was cut off as Arthur drawled.

"Let's hope I'm not carrying anything then."

He knew his mistake and he yelped as the man behind him probed the wound hard. Arthur's hips jerked up and a second later the man was in him again, slamming against him hard. He grabbed his hips and thrust into Arthur again and again, as hard as he could.

"You fucking little bastard. Think you're clever to do, nothing but a whore, you love it don't you… just asking for it…"

As the abuse carried on the words faded from Arthur's mind. No, he didn't ask for it. People asked for it and most of the time they paid him. Arthur knew full well that if they paid, then they could do it. None of these people had offered money. None of the streetwalkers Arthur knew, really wanted it, they just had to eat, and live and survive as they could. They weren't resented a lot of the time, it was just people like this that thought they were somehow better.

They were the worst people to find. Those that thought they were almost delivering a public service by dealing with the whores. It gave them an excuse for violence, and who was going to care about him. Arthur was hardly going to go to the police about it.

Someone does care, a little voice announced. Even if Arthur could dismiss Uther, there was Merlin, who had been so kind, who had tried so hard, and Arthur hadn't trusted him, because he couldn't trust anyone. Arthur jerked and the men laughed but none of them saw the gold flash in his eyes.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Merlin was desperately scrying. He was in the abattoir, in the centre of the room where Arthur had been sat, he was using Arthur's tee-shirt to try and get a fix on him. Merlin closed his eyes and incanted again. And again the deep glow pulsed around the shirt, and he tried to look at what he was shown. Arthur was still close by, and he couldn't narrow it down. He had used a blanketing spell so Arthur was just melded into the group around him. They all had the same spell, Arthur would have just blended in. Enemies wouldn't have been able to differentiate.

There was still hope that they couldn't now.

If anyone had realised they had found Arthur, and knew he was somewhere around here; the hunt was on. If they had to wait even another generation then it could all implode. There were too many people that would like that. It had taken centuries for the natural order to be balanced. Now it had gone all the wrong way. It had to be brought back but Arthur was necessary to that. Merlin knew that, he felt that. As he looked at Arthur he couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Merlin couldn't help it. Arthur was his destiny.

Merlin dropped his head, he felt so tired, and he looked at the tee-shirt in front of him. Poor Arthur, no wonder he didn't want to know.

Gwaine's jaw tensed as he watched Merlin's head droop. Merlin felt responsible but it wasn't Merlin's fault it was his. He had written Arthur off, and didn't think he was much of a threat. There were also the jealous feelings over Merlin, and then the sight of Arthur, and Gwaine had been unnerved by his own arousal, which was what Arthur had done deliberately. He had looked and seen the relationship and known that he could distract Gwaine, for vital seconds. Gwaine hated being read like a book, he hated being bested. He was getting that Pendragon brat back the moment that Merlin found him.

Gwaine jerked as he felt the tug, pulling on his aggression. Merlin was trying to use it, he was trying to tap that emotion to then relate it to Arthur. Gwaine let him, feeling a little bit ashamed of himself, he was supposed to be guarding the brat, not letting Arthur smack him around the face.

Merlin clung, trying to find anything that would find Arthur, hopeless, and hopefully trying. Then suddenly he jumped, and looked down. The spell started to form, pinpricks of light glowing in front of him, and then they formed into two points. The largest was quite clearly the spell around them, the smaller, pulsing gently, was Arthur.

"Well done, Merlin," Gwaine said.

"Wow," Lancelot said from behind them. He moved closer using the map on the computer he was holding to calculate where the fragment of the spell actually was in relation to them.

"I didn't do that," Merlin said, looking down. "Not all of it anyway."

"What do you mean?" Lancelot said as he worked, trying to calculate Arthur's position and distance.

"It's Arthur, he's caused the other spell to call out. I don't know how, or why," Merlin looked up at that, an expression of worry crossing over his face.

"I'd better tell Uther, from the position I would guess he's heading towards the motorway," Lancelot said. Gwaine's hand snaked out and grabbed his arm.

"Just tell him Merlin's located him, don't tell him how it happened. I don't think we need him any more wound up than he already is."

Gwaine made the hint to Lancelot clear. Uther was likely to take it out on Merlin, even if it wasn't Merlin's fault. Lancelot nodded and Gwaine let him go. Gwaine turned back to Merlin, who looked up at him while biting down on his lower lip.

"I'm sure he's fine," Gwaine said.

"It's not moving," Merlin said in concern.

"Maybe he's just paused for a minute; he's gone a good distance. I think we can safely say that Arthur can look after himself."

"Against things in this world maybe."

"It won't take us long to catch up with him," Gwaine said reaching down a hand to haul Merlin up onto his feet and they ran out into the cluster of activity as they prepared to go after Arthur.

"Well, come on!" Uther bellowed at them, making Merlin jump.

"Maybe we should tell him," Merlin said.

"No, let's just let him think the spell worked, Lancelot won't say anything."

Lancelot, Gwaine thought, probably agreed with him. It would be Merlin who would end up taking the brunt of Uther's anger. One thing that annoyed Gwaine, more than annoyed him on some occasions, was the way that Uther treated the boy who had been in his care for so many years. Morgana, who was in the same position, was treated entirely differently. However she was an entirely separate entity. As far as Uther could see, there was little point to Merlin, without Arthur. Unfortunately Arthur was not going to be as entirely biddable as Merlin always was. Gwaine bundled him into the back seat of the jeep, while Uther took the passenger seat and Morgana drove.

Merlin looked like he was about to say something, until Gwaine accidentally on purpose kicked his ankle. With a flicker of nervousness in his eyes Merlin settled back, saying nothing. Gwaine reached out to squeeze his wrist in what he hoped was something of a reassuring gesture.

However, Gwaine knew, the best reassurance Merlin was ever going to get was them finding Arthur, safe and well.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

It wasn't just the first man that went in for a second go, another one did as well. Arthur let him, feeling nothing but boredom as it all happened. Once that man was done, wiping himself up on some old baby wipes they found in the glove compartment, Arthur felt himself hauled off the back door of the car, and they shut it up. Then they went to get in.

"Hey! You were going to take me to the motorway!" Arthur objected. He sat there in the damp grass, the coolness easing the pain in his backside, but he remembered the conversation.

"We said we would give you a ride, you've had one," one of them said. Arthur stayed still. It was still four against one, if he ran at one, the others would take him. He just let them get into the car, he was better off doing things on his own.

"You can have a tip though," one of them said. A five pound note was thrown in his direction, and laughing as they did so the rest of the men emptied their pockets and Arthur was pelted with coins.

Arthur watched as the note wafted to the floor, then drifted a little. He rolled to catch it, causing them all to laugh. It might have been funny to them, but to him five quid was not. Arthur grasped the note in his hand as the car reversed, spraying dirt as it ran up the track. He turned away from it, feeling the wet mud splash against him. He didn't care, he just waited until the lights from the car had gone. Then he slowly sat up, and keeping the note held in his grip he started to pull his trousers up.

"Fucking, fucking, bastards!" Arthur hissed to himself. "I hope you go off a cliff, you tossers…" Arthur slammed his heels into the soft ground, ready to throw out a full blown tantrum. He hitched his trousers up over his knees and put his head in his hands.

"Shit, fucking shit!" he swore under his breath. There was no point making any loud noises. Who was going to hear him? Arthur clambered to his knees to get his jeans up and he fastened them. It didn't do much good, his backside was still damp and his anus burned with the feel of recent sex. The material stuck to his skin, which was still slick with semen.

Arthur let his breath come in angry, ragged gasps. There was no point in being too emotional about it. He was alone now, and he could head up towards the motorway from where he was. It wouldn't take him that long. The problem was that Arthur didn't really feel like it. He didn't want to go out there and pick up another huge bucket load of shit.

"Okay, it's okay, I'm okay," Arthur put his head in his hands and told himself. "I'm all right."

He was, he was there, and he was just about intact. All he needed to do was get to the motorway and get a lift from there. It was tempting to go through town. He could get a bus, or train, spend some of the precious money he had on a ticket. But even if he paid with cash they might be able to find him. There was CCTV and other things to consider. Getting in another car was going to be a risk, but it was one he had to take. Arthur scrabbled around, the faint moonlight catching in the coins that were scattered around him. Arthur swept up a few of them. He couldn't really see what they were but he did it anyway, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. As he shifted he saw a few more, grabbing them and holding them tightly in his hands, the metal pressing into his palm as he gripped so hard. His breath hitched again, threatening to fall out of control again. Arthur made sure he took several slow steady breaths, letting his heart steady down before he slowly got to his feet.

Sickness threatened as he stood up, his stomach churning, his head feeling light, a sensation of dizziness took hold for a moment, and then Arthur bent forward and threw up, his stomach heaving in great gasps. Staggering sideways he put his hand out and steadied himself against a tree. He straightened up and gulped in several draughts of air. He wondered where that last bottle of drink had gone, but he probably wasn't going to find it, he'd have to wait until he could buy something else. Stuffing the rest of the coins he was still holding into his pocket, they would probably serve to cover the cost of another bottle and that was the least those bastards could do for him. Arthur took a tentative step forward, staggering through the wooded area. He listened to the sounds around him, hearing the road to his right. It probably wasn't wise to head in that direction just yet, but Arthur knew if the road was on his right, he was heading in the direction he needed.

He walked a little way, stumbling several times before he eventually fell. With a sigh he just gave in, crawling the short distance to huddle against a tree. There was a trace of light to the east, it would be dawn soon. When he could see better he'd start moving. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed, comforting himself with one thought. Things couldn't possibly get any worse.