"This is the road," Arthur said, sitting up and pointing. He was sat on the floor of the spacious car that had picked him up and started the chain of events that had led him to this point. It was, he thought, regrettable that the drinks cabinet was damaged. He could have really done with some alcohol in his blood.

"Are you sure?" Uther asked. Arthur nodded.

"The roadworks and diversion confused me but yeah, this is the way, the road curves here and then the drive on the right leads up to the house. There's a whole load of bushes just past this bend."

As they took the bend, Arthur's words proved to be true. He couldn't have described the way they went but he knew it, as they ran through it. Arthur got the feeling that Uther didn't want him there. He hadn't exactly endeared himself, not that Arthur cared about Uther's opinion, but he also didn't seem to want Arthur in danger.

As he moved Arthur felt the gun that was now strapped into the holster, resting against his side. It was one of the guns he had used during the training session with Lancelot, who was also the one who had given it to him. There had been some objections but Lancelot had overridden them.

"Look, he's perfectly competent," Lancelot had said, which had felt like a glowing recommendation to Arthur. Then Lancelot had turned to him.

"The safety catch is on, don't take the gun out unless you really need it and don't point it unless you are prepared to use it and kill with it."

"I didn't have a problem last time," Arthur said.

"In which case only pull it if you see a monster, not a person," Lancelot had said to him sternly, leaving Arthur a little flabbergasted and more than a little nervous. He decided to keep the gun on him, but do as Lancelot advised and only pull it if he really had to use it. There was something very calming about having it there, the same feeling that he had carrying the small knife he had kept in his back pocket. Just the sheer presence of it made him feel more confident. Plus, he wasn't entering the building alone. If Uther had his way he wouldn't be entering at all, but Arthur knew the layout of most of the house.

"Stop just past the entrance," Uther ordered. Gwaine stopped driving and everyone started to clamber out of the car. They were out of sight of the house but the wall and iron gate loomed to their left, looking imposing in the darkness. Lancelot pulled the jeep he was driving just ahead of the car and they all clambered together in the darkness.

"Merlin?" Uther said.

Merlin whispered, his eyes flashing gold, a phenomenon that was easy to see in the darkness. After a moment he shook his head, gaze moving over the imposing boarder of the estate.

"Nothing magical, not even proximity wards. There was no evidence he possessed magic anyway."

Uther nodded. "Lancelot."

"As far as I can tell, there is just CCTV as security, and not much of that. We can get in easily."

"The gates are on a remote control," Arthur warned him. A moment later Lancelot produced a small device, typed into the keypad and the gates opened up, creaking a little. It made Arthur's stomach tighten. He knew they were there when that creak happened, and he was bought and paid for.

"Let's go, Lancelot, keep those men on the perimeter, the rest to the house. Merlin, you stay with Arthur."

"Yes, Sir," Merlin said.

Arthur frowned, "why is Merlin staying with me?"

Uther gave him a look that told Arthur to stop asking stupid questions. Morgana said nothing, but looked at him archly as she followed Uther past the now open gate. She was dressed in the same sort of clothing. Black combat trousers, thick soles boots that laced up around her ankles and a black top, with a gun holster wrapped around her torso. The gun was already in her hands, and she followed Uther looking around carefully. Arthur trotted in with the rest of them, Lancelot moved closer to him, flanking his right, while Merlin lingered on his left. Gwaine stayed by Merlin.

The three men who had travelled in the jeep with Lancelot fanned out into the grounds while the rest of them made their way to the large house. Part of it was floodlit, and some of the lights in the house were on.

"There are no security guards or anything like that?" Lancelot asked.

"No, just the chauffer, well that's all I've ever seen," Arthur replied. "Why would anyone bother him, he's just a rich old man, who's a bit lonely."

"You think that?" Gwaine asked.

"He buys someone as company every other Wednesday," Arthur said. "We didn't always have sex, sometimes he just talked and showed me things, and took me to places."

"What things?" Uther hissed as they made it to the side of the house and peered into the nearest room.

"Art and stuff, and culture. That painting over the study fireplace was painted in 1804, it was the only one the artist did, Gerard… something or other that sounds French but I think it's Belgian. There was some story behind it, I was there when he went to the gallery to buy it." Arthur ended rather limply as Lancelot opened the window with the expertise of a high-class burglar.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but that looks like Kilgharrah," Morgana said as she put her head through the window and launched herself onto the sill.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"It is," Merlin said clambering in. Arthur managed it, with a helpful shove from Gwaine that pitched him onto the floor. The man followed him, laughing. Arthur looked up at the picture of the fire breathing dragon that was half twisted in the air, looking like it was in flight, neck and wings stretched.

"It's supposed to be titled 'The Impossible Creature.'" Arthur added helpfully as he picked himself off the floor. "The Belgian guy that painted it was put into an asylum after he did it. He also said that he saw red clad soldiers when he saw the scene as he started to paint, but he couldn't put them in, someone warned him not to."

"You know a lot."

"I was there when he paid three millions pound for it. I was two hundred pounds and fifty pounds for the rent of a suit. It really gives you perspective in life," Arthur said. "People's lives are worth nothing. No one notices you. I was just a pretty boy following a rich man."

"Buying a picture of the last Great Dragon, we know the portrait," Merlin said. "We know when it was painted. The Pendragon of the time tried to find the man who had painted it, he had seen something, something that was real."

"I just got pissed on the free champagne and made an extra thirty quid in the loos with a hand job and some dirty talk."

"You really, now and again, take the magnificence out of certain moments," Gwaine said, moving to Merlin's side as he stared at the portrait of the dragon. Arthur clenched his teeth. What the hell was magnificent about this? He turned and walked out of the study and went into the hallway, heading up the flight of stairs towards the bedroom. He knew the place well, he also knew the person who lived here, and didn't really want to frighten him.

"Geoff? It's Arthur."

"What are you doing?" Lancelot hissed.

"He's an old man, and I've had to give him his medication on more than one occasion, he suffers from angina. There is no point in encouraging him to have a heart attack. No one else comes here."

"You're here one night in every two weeks, you don't know that. Leon, scout the lower floors with the rest of my team. We'll take the rest."

"Will we?" Arthur asked Lancelot.

"You seem to think he's up here, so we're following you."

"The bedroom is just here, it's late enough he doesn't… shit!" Arthur yelped as Lancelot elbowed him onto the floor. Arthur fell, banging his head against the door he had opened which was now swinging back on him.

"Ow," Arthur said calmly and then looked at the bed. "Oh my god. Oh, Christ."

Arthur remembered there always being ivory coloured sheets on the bed. Now they were red, blood dripping off them, running from the body parts that lay on the bed, in position, but limbs had been removed from the torso. Arthur focused on the right hand which had been yanked off, bone protruding from the wrist it had been pulled from. He kept his eyes on that one thing, not wanting to take in the rest of the scene.

Lancelot moved into the room slowly, gun ready, scanning around.

"Arthur?" Merlin grabbed him, making Arthur tense and he slammed back into the door again. Lancelot turned to look at them.

"We can't stay in here, we need to sweep it for traces of… whatever did this. Merlin get my team up here, you two need to stay clear of the scene."

"Yeah, whatever, come on Arthur we need to get out of here," Merlin said, dragging Arthur back. Arthur went with him to stunned to do anything else. He stood in the hallway of the house that he had visited regularly, which had always been something of a pleasantry. There was a pool, and a games room, and Arthur often got time to indulge himself before he had to do his job, or after it. Geoff tired out and if Arthur didn't want to sleep he was given a fairly good run of the house.

Without really considering where he was going Arthur walked downstairs, his mind branded with the sight of the body on the bed. The head was intact, there was no doubt it was the old man, who had paid for him regularly. Arthur swallowed heavily, wondering what could have done that, leaving the man in pieces, which were so perfectly placed, as if they expected them to be found.

He turned and went down the corridor towards the pool and games room, the places where he usually hung out if he came here. Geoff never seemed to mind him wandering about, taking him around some of the rooms, and showing him some of the treasures. What baffled Arthur was his lack of concern for things that cost mind boggling amounts of money. The house did not have huge amounts of security. Arthur wondered where the chauffer had gone. Maybe he ought to find out, he turned, knowing Merlin was following along behind him, about to ask about it when an open door caught his eye.

It was a heavy oak door, Arthur had tried it once, to find it firmly locked. So he hadn't worried about it. He knew there were expensive things in the house and as much as he was trusted, and allowed to wander Arthur took the hint and left well alone. He did not want to fuck up his undemanding regular job by a simple momentary whim of curiosity.

Now the door to the room had been forced open, the wood splintered around the handle and lock where it had been ripped open. Arthur frowned and went towards it, pushing it open a little.

"Arthur, maybe we should wait for Gwaine, or Lancelot," Merlin said. Arthur glanced at him and then reached under his hoodie and pulled out the gun, releasing the safety catch and holding the weapon as Lancelot had taught him. Arthur shouldered the door open further, peering into the darkness.

"Gwaine," Merlin's voice was soft, and Arthur heard the sound of footsteps coming swiftly down the corridor, and he sensed Gwaine's presence behind him. Arthur turned to glance at him.

"Have you ever been in here?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, the door was locked when I tried it once, I didn't think about it after that."

Gwaine carefully reached around Arthur, making him step back. Gwaine looked at the damage done to the door.

"Somebody certainly did though," Gwaine said, taking the position Arthur had and pushing the door open further. Arthur shuffled to one side to peer around the door, but it was in complete darkness. Gwaine lifted his gun carefully, aiming it into the room.

"Light switch should be on the inside of the door there," he said, nodding in the relevant direction. Arthur took the hint, and reaching around the doorframe fumbled his hand around the area where he guessed the switch to be. It took him a few seconds but his hand pressed against a metal panel and he found a row of switches. Putting his hand across the panel he flipped up as many of the switches as he could in one go.

The sudden bright lights made the three of them wince, but as Gwaine eased his way further in it was clear the long, narrow room was empty of people. The three of them wandered in, looking around.

"It's like a museum," Arthur said. "I know he bought antiques and stuff but this is like a serious obsession."

There were maps, pictures and sketches framing the walls, running down either side of the room. Two long tables dominated the floor, both of them covered with books, and parchments, some of them carefully locked away in glass panelled cabinets. Halfway down, on the left table was a working space, with an angle poise lamp, magnifying glasses, tweezers and chemical bottles stacked around.

"Wow, it's all about the legend of Camelot. He must know as much as us," Merlin mused in awe.

"Much good it did him," Gwaine said, wandering down the length of the room.

"We'd better get Uther," Merlin said. Then he looked up at Gwaine, who had paused at the far end, staring at what adorned the end wall. Merlin blinked jumping as Arthur brushed past him and then Gwaine to stare at what was there.

"It would seem this guy knew more than us," Gwaine murmured.

Arthur stared at the wall, feeling a cold stirring in the pit of his stomach. He stepped forward two more paces, peering at some of the sheets on the wall. Newspaper articles adorned the wall, ones that he knew well, relating to the spate of rapes of which he had been a victim, and there was even the police report, including some of the photographs taken by the police doctor. A little to the left of that was information about his mother's illness, and just above that a picture of Arthur, the only school photograph he had ever had taken, when he had first started; a clean, and shining and happy five year old. He hadn't bothered since, who would want a picture of him, his mother hadn't been there, and who else was there.

His stomach churned as he looked to the right, there were CCTV pictures of him working the streets, some of the police reports from when he had been picked up and cautioned. Arthur closed his eyes as he saw the one of him on his knees some guy's cock in his mouth as he gave a blow job. They weren't the only ones, there were some that must have been taken while he was working, someone spying on him, several of him entering the motel, some of him on the streets, and some of them when he had slept here, at the house, thinking it safe enough. Arthur focused on one in the middle that had been blown up, making it a focal point. He had been sprawled in the bed, where the owner of the house now lay, dismembered by something or someone. In the photograph Arthur was naked, sprawled in the sheets, unaware of the photograph being taken. Near to it was a charcoal sketch where someone had recreated the image, and another sketch that depicted him in armour, with a cloak around his shoulders.

He felt himself give a heavy, choked breath. His entire life was on this wall, the man who had been buying him every other Wednesday knew who he was, had known something about him. It probably meant that that was the only reason he had wanted him, had asked Aled for someone of his physical description.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked tentatively.

Arthur wasn't aware that he was backing up out of the room, his eyes stayed fixed on the wall, the two things prominent in his mind were the photographs, one of him as a child, the other as a rent boy. He was aware of the drumming sound in his ears, and his body prickled with heat while his stomach churned over and over. One hand grasped the edge of the table, and he couldn't help it as he convulsed and vomited onto the floor, coughing and choking as he did so.

"Come on Arthur, I think we had better get you out of here," Gwaine said, his voice also filled with concern. He and Merlin glanced at each other, both coming to the conclusion that they needed Arthur away from this scene, they probably needed him out of the house altogether. Gwaine watched as Arthur started to shake, slowly backing up. He moved close enough that he could take the gun out of Arthur's hand. It made Arthur jerk back in shock and he slammed his hip against the nearest table, causing some of the items on top to rock and rattle about. Arthur recoiled again, eyes wide, hardly now seeing anything.

"Shit," Gwaine murmured, putting the gun down. Arthur backed up, stumbling and falling over and as both Merlin and Gwaine moved to help him, he curled up, shuttling away from them wrapping his arms around his head, trying to blot out the sound of his heart crashing in his ears. Arthur whimpered in panic, kicking out as Gwaine tried to take hold of him. Gwaine faltered, hesitating a little as Arthur curled up on his side, whimpering and kicking.

"Arthur, it's all right, it's Merlin."

He tried to take Arthur's shoulders, hoping to sit him up and attempt to settle him down. Arthur lashed out, Gwaine yanked Merlin back out of the way and Arthur pushed himself further under the table, struggling to get away. Gwaine pushed Merlin in the direction of the door.

"Get Uther."

"But…" Merlin protested. Gwaine glowered at him.

"Go, get him or Lancelot, I'll look after Arthur."

Through the drumming in his ears Arthur heard frantic footsteps as Merlin ran off, and he huddled back as he sensed someone close to him but Gwaine made no attempt to touch him. Arthur had made it quite clear he didn't appreciate it, Gwaine instead lingered close by just in case.

Arthur remained curled up in his own nightmare, not wanting to believe what was happening around him, but he couldn't ignore it. The situation got worse as his senses picked up several people suddenly crowding in on him. He gave a scream, he didn't want people touching him. He lashed out again, at whoever had pulled him out from under the table. Arthur tried to haul himself away but couldn't fight the grip. There was a sudden searing pain in his arm and seconds later Arthur sank into darkness.