A/N:

You may have already guessed by the prompt uploads that I am indeed attempting to make up for the lack of updates over the last couple of months. This next chapter is for myself, to cheer me up (though it is a little bit sadistic) and features Merlin with appendicitis. I have had my appendix removed after it split and even though it has been 5 years, I still remember it clear as day. It's not something you forget in a hurry. Anyway, on with the story!

I'm pretty sure Merlin is glad I don't own him...

CHARACTERS: Arthur & Merlin

RATED: T

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort and Angst

WARNINGS: Possibly graphic description of medieval surgical procedure.

Merlin is ill and thinks nothing of it until the pain starts...

THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN

Rupture

Merlin woke abruptly, moonlight streaming through the canopy casting a dappled light across the forest floor. On the other side of the clearing, he could hear the knights snoring gently; completely at peace with the world. It took several minutes for the young man to realise what had woken him. A dull, throbbing pain assailed his upper abdomen – just behind his belly button and he hissed, pressing down gently in an attempt to ease the pain. He must have eaten something funny or perhaps he strained a muscle lugging Arthur's armour around.

It was true, he had been feeling a little off, but he attributed it to stress and lack of sleep. As he stared at the sky – he felt his lids grow heavy and soon he was asleep again, completely unaware of his body's betrayal...

'Merlin, you complete dolt! You were supposed to wake us at dawn!' Arthur's hollered, jerking the young man from his slumber.

The warlock groaned, his stomach muscles clenching painfully as the King nudged his right side with a booted foot.

'Leave me alone,' Merlin muttered, curling into himself and turning away from the assault. Not today. He was not going to give the King even one minute of his time when he felt so utterly lousy.

'Don't give me that you bumbling twit! Get up right now!'

The second nudge was slightly rougher than the first and Merlin cried out, agony spiking from navel to hip.

Clearly through with Merlin's unusual stubbornness, The King grabbed the back of his tunic and dragged him to his feet, completely oblivious to the sweat that beaded Merlin's brow.

At full stretch, the pain was even worse – like a hundred knives piercing his belly; hot and sharp from the inside and Merlin gasped, struggling in his master's grip.

'What is with you today?' Arthur demanded as the boy continued to squirm.

'Arthur, leave off – I don't think he's feeling very well,' Gwaine said as he approached the pair, his brow creased with worry as Merlin's pinched features conveyed the absolute agony he was in.

The King frowned and lowered the boy back to the ground, stepping back in bewilderment as he began to heave; trembling from head to toe at the force of it.

Once the retching stopped, Merlin spat in an attempt to clear his mouth of bitterness before rocking back on his haunches with a grimace.

Gwaine crouched beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. 'You right there mate? Looking a bit peaky.' He commented.

'It's nothing, ' Merlin assured with a shaky smile. 'Must've been something I ate.'

The King was not convinced – he had been in a right fury this morning, not even noticing the boy's complexion was paler than usual until now and guilt bubbled into his chest.

'Merlin, If you're unwell then maybe we should stay here a while until you're feeling well enough to move.' Arthur suggested softly, anger completely replaced by a niggling unease.

'No Arthur, I'm fine. I just want to get home and perhaps get some rest.'

The King almost scowled at his frivolous use of the word 'fine'. He had used it so much in the past when things are decidedly not fine that the meaning had completely changed for the young royal. Now 'fine' meant 'I'm really hurt or extremely unwell but I don't want to worry you.'

Arthur was still hesitant – It was at least a full day's ride back to Camelot at full gallop and the last thing he wanted to do was aggravate any illness or hidden injury he may have.

Merlin flashed him what he thought was a reassuring smile, and truthfully it resembled more of a pained grimace; but Arthur relented. He wouldn't be at all comfortable on the forest floor and the King would feel a lot better if Gaius had a look at the boy to confirm his so called 'fineness'.

'Alright then, but if you fall off your horse, we're leaving you there and you can walk back to Camelot.'

Of course he didn't mean it, but the threat would give the boy incentive to call out if things got to the point of an accidental dismount.

They packed up camp quickly, the Knights refusing to accept Merlin's assistance and soon they were ready to leave. The Knights didn't miss the way Merlin favoured his right side, guarding it with an arm as he mounted, with a bit of a sneaky boost from Percival. The youth pretended not to notice, but was silently grateful for the help. The pain was terrible, like a deep pressure, sitting at the centre of his abdomen and slowly radiating down his right side. Like a headache in his stomach.

He shook his head at how stupid that sounded.

About halfway through the day, the pain abated and the pressure lifted slowly – allowing the young man to take a breath and join in the conversation. He was still feeling a little under the weather, but he was sure it was nothing.

Absolutely certain in fact. No point in worrying over a sore tummy...

Until several hours later, when the agony exploded in his lower right side tearing a ragged scream from his lips. Wrapping his willowy arms across his belly, he slid from his mount and crashed to his knees, emptying his stomach of the meagre lunch they had stopped for about half an hour previously.

Between heaves, Merlin sobbed; hot tears streaming down his face as the pain coursed through his abdomen. Arthur was the first to crash by his side, gripping his shoulder in a bruising grip. He had seen Merlin injured and in pain before, but he for the most part he hid it beneath a strained smile and moved on.

This was entirely different. This was terrifying.

The youth dug his fingers into the earth as he continued to retch – his eyes squeezed tightly shut against the pain.

'Merlin? What's happened?' The King asked gently, attempting to lift the boy.

'No!' He shrieked, his voice cracking and Arthur ceased his ministrations. He was panting now, each shuddering breath laced with a moan. 'Arth-Arthur…please. It hurts…' he gasped, turning slowly and still clutching his gut. The King wracked his brain, but he couldn't come up with a logical explanation as to why his friend was in so much pain. The Knights stood by grimly, keeping their distance as their King tried to soothe the ailing boy – not an easy task; especially for Gwaine, who was itching to do something, anything, for his friend.

'Tell me where it hurts, Merlin. Come now – no need for tears, its alrigh-'

Arthur was cut off by another scream and Merlin dropped, nearly landing face first in the puddle of sick; but Arthur manoeuvred him so that he lay against the King's chest.

Sweat plastered his raven hair to his brow and Arthur placed his hand there only to recoil at the intense heat his skin radiated.

'Get me some water, now!' Arthur ordered, his voice laced with panic.

Gwaine was the first to react, detaching a flask from his him and racing over to the pair. 'What's wrong with him?' The bearded knight enquired, unstoppering the water skin and pouring the cool water onto the youth's hair.

'I don't know, I don't think he can tell me, but he's favouring his right side – his arm braced it automatically when I turned him.

Gwaine nodded, gripping Merlin's wrist and moving his arm away slowly as Arthur carded his fingers through wet hair.

'Be calm Merlin, I'm just having a look, okay?' The Knight soothed, earning a short nod from the whimpering youth. Gripping the hem of his ragged tunic, Gwaine lifted the fabric and rocked back to sit on his heels, brow creasing.

'Shit,' he hissed, his dark eyes filled with worry as they met Arthur's gaze.

The King leaned forward to see, careful not to jostle the young man in his arms and swore just as colourfully as Gwaine had at what he saw.

Merlin's entire lower right side was a deep hue of mottled purple and it was quite magnificently swollen. Arthur wasted no time. He couldn't – for some unknown reason, Merlin was bleeding internally and if he didn't get help soon, he would die.

There was a chance he would anyway, but the king refused to harbour such thoughts and with the speed of a well-practised warrior, he scooped the boy into his arms and ran to his horse. He only handed him to Percival once as he mounted and before long, the youth was situated before him on the saddle, still sobbing in pain.

'I will ride ahead as fast as I can. Don't push yourselves too hard.' Arthur stated, silently apologising to his friend as he slapped the flank of his steed and turned her onto the trail.

As the horse settled into a hard gallop, Merlin's head rolled back to Arthur's shoulder; his cobalt eyes clouded with pain. 'S-stop, please!' he begged, swallowing convulsively.

Arthur shook his head. 'I can't, I'm sorry!'

Merlin screamed again – long and almost animal and Arthur could not bear it.

His lids fluttered and the King silently urged him to pass out. It would make the trip easier for both of them. Arthur jumped the horse over a fallen log and the landing snapped Merlin's eyes open, his mouth wide in a silent scream before his eyes rolled back; the pain silently sending him into oblivion.

*~*M*~*

Dusk had fallen by the time he raced through the citadel gates, sending the guards into a flurry. 'GAIUS!' He hollered at the top of his lungs.

Sir Leon, who had stayed behind to assist the Queen, raced down the steps, grabbing the reins.

'What happened, my lord?' He queried, eyeing the boy worriedly.

Arthur just shook his head and called for Gaius again.

The old man had heard the King's first cry from the open window in his chambers and his heart had plummeted to his worn boots.

Arthur's voice was laced with fear and panic – the only time he had ever heard that kind of distress in his voice was when his father had been stabbed.

The only person he could think of that he cared that much about, was Merlin – however much he refused to admit it.

The cry came again, and the Physician was spurred into action, grabbing his basket and donning a cloak, he rushed from the room as fast as he could.

He met the King halfway, and sure enough – his ward was cradled to his chest; limp and unmoving. Without any prompting, the King began to explain.

'Severe pain - lower right side, high fever and vomiting. He's bleeding internally.'

Gaius paled. 'Oh fie,' he swore – turning on his heels and racing back to his chambers. "Hurry Arthur – we haven't much time!' He called over his shoulder.

Merlin chose that exact moment to regain consciousness with another scream, the sound sending icy tendrils of fear down Gaius's spine as he pushed the door open and clear off the bench.

'Set him down here and send someone down to the kitchens for a bucket of boiling water.' The Physician ordered. Leon, who had been trailing behind, nodded stiffly before disappearing out the door in a swirl of Camelot red.

'Arthur – I need help. Will you stay?' The Physician asked, pulling vials of clear liquid from his shelves along with several small knives.

The King nodded hesitantly. 'What do you need?'

'Remove his clothes – all but his underwear – and wipe him down with a cool rag.' He handed the young royal a small vial of blue liquid. 'He must drink all of that, best to give it to him first.'

As Gaius set about lighting the fire, Arthur lifted the youth slightly ignoring the cry of pain the movement elicited.

Unstoppering the vial, he pressed it to Merlin's lips. 'Drink it.' He commanded gently, receiving very little argument as the liquid slid down his throat.

The youth's breathing slowed and a small smile slipped across his lips. A painkiller then – and a strong one to boot. Wasting no time, he divested Merlin of his tunic and breeches, before taking a second vial of clear liquid that Gaius waved in front of his face.

'This will knock him out, for several hours at least.' He explained, taking several cool rags from a bucked and placing them under Merlin's armpits.

Arthur did as he was told and within moments, Merlin was unconscious once more.

That was when Leon crashed through the door, carrying a bucket of steaming water. He set it down by Gaius, who proceeded to drop his knives in one by one.

'Sir Leon, could you rinse the blades thoroughly and then drop them into that large beaker to soak,' He indicated to the vessel on his workbench before turning back to Arthur, catching his questioning gaze.

'His appendix has ruptured, sire – I have to remove it or he could die.'

Arthur swallowed nervously and watched as Gaius lowered Merlin's smallclothes to just under his protruding hip bones. With a sharpened razor, he cleared the thatch of dark hair that grew over the mottled skin and dabbed some kind of alcoholic disinfectant with a clean cloth.

He then turned to Leon, who was swirling the blades within the beaker. 'Leon, if you could rest the blades in the fire until they glow and then drop them back into the beaker – that would be helpful. Then bring them here.' He instructed, threading a bone needle with black wire. He then packed a wad of white cloth into the waistband of Merlin's underpants and rested another just above the bruising.

'Arthur – I know he is very dear to you, but please; I need you focused. You have treated Knights with severe wounds before and I know you can help, but you need to keep a clear head. If you lose concentration for even a second it could mean his death. Do you understand?'

The King blinked to clear the wetness in his eyes, but several tears escaped regardless.

'He is not a Knight…' He whispered brokenly.

The Physician gave him a wan smile. 'Not officially, no. But he is the bravest soul I know and the strongest. You know it to, My Lord.'

Arthur nodded, releasing a shaky sigh as Sir Leon approached with the disinfected blades.

Gaius's hands were steady as he slashed into the skin with a wickedly sharp blade, blood welling immediately from the wound as it grew in length and depth. The Knight busied himself in lighting every candle he could find and Arthur tried not to throw up as his hands grew slick with Merlin's blood.

The Physician had to cut through several layers of skin and muscle before he reached the abdominal cavity and as the King pressed rag upon rag against the wound, the blood continued to flow.

'He's losing too much,' Arthur ground out through clenched teeth, switching his gaze to Merlin's face, which was paler than he could ever remember seeing it.

'I know Arthur, now concentrate,' Gaius snapped, pulling the wound wider and sighing. 'Arthur. This is going to be horrible – but I cannot see very well, there is too much blood in the abdominal cavity. I need you to soak it up,'

'I – you what?' The King stammered, hands already shaking. The Physician handed him a fresh cloth and guided his hand into the wound. It was hot and wet and Arthur swallowed the bile that was climbing up his throat. As he pressed down, Merlin moaned.

Their eyes snapped up to meet each other simultaneously and Gaius paled. 'It's not possible…I can't have misjudged the dose!'

'Leon! Quick – he's regaining consciousness!'

The Knight grabbed the vial that Gaius had indicated and just as Merlin opened his mouth to scream, poured it straight down his gullet.

He was out again, thank the heavens.

The Physician sighed in relief and with Arthur's help, soon found the little traitor he was looking for. A quick slice and it was gone. He sewed the little nub and smiled at the King.

'You did very well, my lord – now I can close him up, but he will need to be watched in case infection sets in…Arthur?'

The King was far away, just staring at all the red. He was tempted to change Camelot's colours just so he would never see it again. Exhaustion and fear had taken its toll on him and Arthur promptly passed out…

*~*M*~*

Merlin was groggy and sore when he woke next. He tried to sit, but the pain in his abdomen refused to allow any kind of movement.

'Lie still, you idiot,' came a familiar voice from across the room. It was Arthur, looking tired and rather dishevelled. Dressed in a sandy tunic and a pair of sleeping pants, the King approached bare-footed, his flaxen hair fluffed out like a porcupine. Dark circles stood out against pale skin, but despite looking like he hadn't slept for a week; Arthur smiled as he sat on the stool by the patient cot.

'Wha' happened?' The young warlock asked tiredly, accepting the goblet that the King handed him, hoping it was water.

'Your appendix ruptured – we had to remove it,' he replied simply, preparing the pain tonic Gaius asked him to administer if Merlin awoke in his absence. 'Don't worry though – he assured me that it wasn't necessary for your day to day survival, but you will be off your feet for several weeks.'

The youth sight and took the vial of purple liquid. 'You said we…'

The King smiled. 'I assisted with the surgery. It's not every day the King is elbow deep in his servant's innards, is it?'

Merlin paled and Arthur regretted his choice of words. 'What I meant to say was…I couldn't stand by and let you die. I had to do something,' He admitted softly, ruffling the boy's hair as he struggled to swallow the vile liquid.

'Thank you, sire…I don't think I will forget that experience any time soon…'

'Painful?'

'Beyond anything you can imagine Arthur; like being impaled from the inside…'

The King shuddered at the thought and prayed that his appendix would stay with him until he was old and grey. He didn't fancy ever being in as much pain as Merlin was – although, for his servant – he would gladly endure worse.

He kept that little realisation to himself as he watched the boys lids grow heavy.

Merlin was on a long road to recovery, and Arthur was pleased with the fact that he helped him get there.

Well, that was actually pretty easy to write – it helps when you have experienced it before! I hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned, your prompt may be next!