Words. That's all they were. Letters that made words, words that formed sentences, and sentences that made.. no sense. Everything was muffled and distorted, like voices being heard underneath water. Really hot, boiling water.

Was this what the water in Gaius' kettle felt like? Wait, why did that matter? It shouldn't. Or couldn't? Words. Nothing made sense anymore. Had anything ever made sense?

Letting out a quiet groan, Merlin turned his head, desperately trying to rid his mind of the constant stream of nonsense that wouldn't leave him alone. At his noise the underwater voices paused, and he heard something creak.

A door? A bedframe? What did it even matter? Regardless, after a few moments the voices returned, and there they were again. Pointless words.

He wasn't able to discern the voices, but as he rolled again and felt his blanket fall to the floor, he was certain that they were the voices of death. That wouldn't surprise him, really. He was freezing yet sweat covered his body, making his clothes stick to his skin while his throat burned so badly he could hardly breathe.

What was happening to him? He knew what it felt like to be burned, the fire in the towers had shown him that, but instead of his skin burning, it felt as though his organs were burning on the inside. Every pump of his heart sent scalding blood through his veins, and Merlin was certain that this was finally his time. He was dying. And with the way it felt, he only hoped that it would finish him off quickly.

Instead of passing into some void or white light however, there it was again. Incoherent words. They were closer this time though, and the tone sounded concerned. It was always concerned. He hated how many people he made worry over him. Would everyone's lives be easier if he just wasn't around?

The thought numbed Merlin's brain, and for the first time his nonsensical thoughts shifted to something else. Maybe he should be dead. Maybe it would be easier for them. For Gaius. For Arthur. For Camelot. All he did was cause problems and then solve them and then make Arthur's bed. Round and round, never changing.

What was he thinking about again? He couldn't take it anymore, the thoughts, the overwhelming urge to scream, the burning in his throat. Cracking his eyes open, Merlin stared at the ceiling that swam above him. So he was underwater. But how was he breathing?

He couldn't stop another groan from leaving him, his hand flailing weakly against his mattress as an idea suddenly struck him. Underwater. Water. That's what he needed. Suddenly it was the only thing he needed.

Turning his head to the side, he could just make out the dark shapes of the nightstand next to him, and on that what he hoped was a cup of water. Lifting his hand was a chore, an aching chore that he hated. Somehow, since he'd first fallen asleep, his hand had decided to weigh a thousand pounds.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't lift it even a little bit off his bed, and it remained stubbornly by his side in a useless, irritating manner. Tingling filled his fingertips, and it felt almost out of spite, and Merlin let out another groan. This wasn't supposed to be this hard.

Using his other arm, which seemed much more willing to cooperate than the other, Merlin pushed himself up a fraction and blinked again, trying to clear his hazy vision. His mouth was dry, and his throat burned. He didn't care how he got the water, he just wanted it now. Staring hard, the boy willed the water to come closer. He tried, and tried, but nothing. No strength, no magic, no anything.

Falling back in a huff, sweat beaded the warlock's brow as Merlin panted. Nothing could ever come easily to him, could it? A dull squeak suddenly invaded his senses, and Merlin closed his eyes tightly as pain slammed into his head. It had come from nowhere, but it was blinding and agonizing, and he felt his breath stolen away.

Make it stop. He begged, desperately gasping for air as his chest rose and fell faster.

"It's alright, you're alright." A soothing voice spoke beside him while the warlock drew in a shallow breath, his heart racing painfully. He could hardly think or breathe, what was happening to him?

"It's alright, Merlin." The voice uttered again, and the tone was tinged with fear. "It's alright."

The third time it was said, it was accompanied with a gentle touch, fingers brushing across his skin while a cool, damp cloth settled on his forehead. The moisture against his burning skin was a relief Merlin hadn't known he'd needed, and his next breath came a bit easier. Forcing his eyes open, a blurry face filled his vision, and it took several moments for him to make out anything more than the shape of their face.

"Water," He croaked weakly, trying and failing to lift his hand again. "Please."

The head nodded, and moments later that same gentle hand was supporting him, helping him to sit up as the rim of the cup brushed his lips. Merlin drank greedily, gulping the water as fast as he could and sputtering a few times before the cup was finally pulled away.

"Thank you." He breathed the moment he laid back, his throat appeased but now his stomach complaining.

"Of course, Merlin." Blinking up at the person again, his hazed vision began to clear, and he stared wearily up at the young woman.

"Why are you here?" He asked weakly, and Guinevere offered a sad smile.

The warlock had noticed that most of her smiles were sad anymore, ever since Morgana had disappeared. Dark circles lived perpetually under her eyes, and worry lines creased her face anytime he saw her.

"Gaius was needed to deal with a sudden illness in the Lower Town, so I offered to watch over you." Setting her hands delicately in her lap, Gwen's eyes fell away from his.

"You always seem to be here." Merlin mumbled, catching her startled stare as he hurried to correct himself. "I mean helping. You're always here helping me. Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." She smiled, looking down again. "You've had us all worried. I asked Gaius what happened, you know, because you'd been so healthy.." Trailing off, her fingers began to twist at the hem of her sleeve and Merlin felt guilt creeping over him.

"I—"

"He said your immune system was weakened after the tower's collapse. He said.. He said you were lucky before, but that this time he was worried you wouldn't wake up.." Gwen's head remained bowed, but her voice had choked up and Merlin tried to reach out, though his arm still weighed too heavily to move.

"I'm sorry, Gwen."

"I just don't want to lose another friend." She whispered, and as the girl looked back up, her dark eyes were filled with tears. "Please promise me you'll be alright after this."

Blinking sluggishly, Merlin forced himself to nod. As he opened his mouth to verbally reassure her, a harsh cough drove out of him with such force it sent aches and burning pain throughout his chest until he was left lying back exhausted and heaving.

The world was once again swimming around him, and every single piece of his body hurt. As he closed his eyes tightly in an effort to keep the nausea at bay, Merlin felt something cool press against his face again. Cracking one eye open, he spotted Guinevere's shadow hovering over him, a damp cloth in her hand that she carefully pressed against his cheek.

"I'm okay.." He mumbled, feeling the heavy weight of sleep crash into him, trying to drag him into unconsciousness.

"I know." Gwen murmured back, her hand finding his atop his blankets and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You should try to sleep." The girl encouraged as if she could tell how badly his body was fighting to stay awake.

And yet, despite the urge to drop off into the dark, the warlock couldn't for one simple reason. "Everything hurts." He grimaced, closing his eye again and feeling tears threatening to spill. "Everything.. even my fingers.."

This was his punishment, wasn't it? For toying with the sorcerer's spells? For messing with everyone's emotions? He didn't want them all worried over him, and the last thing he'd wanted was to be on bed rest again. How many times had he done this to Gaius? Had he worried the only father he had in his life? How many times had he missed work and failed Arthur?

The tears were ready to race down his cheeks, but Merlin worked to swallow the emotion down. He had put enough on Gwen already, and the last thing she needed was to deal with him having some ridiculous meltdown. Before he could think to say anything else a bird screeched nearby, and moments later something small and soft was pressing into the crook of his neck and nuzzling against his skin.

"That owl hasn't left your side all day. Gaius said it's quite attached to you." Gwen commented, the strain in keeping her voice as light and pleasant as possible obvious to Merlin as he opened his eyes again.

"Seems that way." The warlock mumbled, tilting his head towards the bird as the owl cuddled up to him.

"Are you going to keep him?" Guinevere asked, leaning forward with a genuine smile now.

"Yes."

"What are you going to call him?"

Opening his mouth to respond, Merlin was struck with the sudden realization that he'd never even considered giving the bird a name until that very moment. Obviously it was needed, wasn't it? Especially if he planned on keeping him around.

"I don't know." The boy finally admitted, cutting his eyes to the maid. "What do you think I should call him?"

Frowning in thought, Gwen finally lifted her shoulders. "I don't have the slightest clue. It seems like just any old name won't do, though. It needs to be something special."

"Special?" Merlin repeated, feeling the weariness creeping up on him again as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Maybe you could find something in one of Gaius' books that you like." The girl offered, and the warlock nodded, unaware of when he'd failed and let his eyes fall shut.

He was drifting off, aware enough of Gwen and the pain in his body but feeling his mind starting to wander away. And for a moment it was bliss, until an ache sprouted in the boy's chest and Merlin stifled a groan, his face contorting as he held back his cry of pain.

"It's alright." Gwen murmured softly, readjusting the cloth over the boy's head. "Here, why don't I try to distract you?" She offered, not even waiting for him to respond before the warlock heard the pages of a book turning.

In moments Guinevere's gentle voice began reading to him, and though he could barely pay attention to the words, just the tone of her voice was enough to soothe him. He wasn't sure when it happened, but he finally drifted off into a peaceful slumber, his body still aching with each breath, but a dreamless sleep helped to ease his mind.

The peace didn't last as long as he'd hoped, and Merlin's body shuddered with force as it drove him awake, his stomach rebelling as the warlock hurried to lean over and heave into the bucket that someone had placed near his bed.

His body felt as though it were being ripped apart, each and every muscle stretched to its breaking point before then being lit on fire. He couldn't keep anything down, his stomach clenching every few minutes before spewing liquid out of his mouth and being left with a foul, acidic taste after.

By his fourth time heaving and having nothing left in him to give up, Merlin collapsed half off his bed, his arm dangling down and his skin radiating heat. How long had he been like this? How long until he felt better? Would this end up being the death of him? He didn't want to think about it anymore, because the more he thought about it the more he realized he just didn't care. He was in endless agony, and he just wanted it all to stop.

As Merlin wallowed, he half drifted off, barely aware of the owl nudging at him or the screeching a few times after. He hardly acknowledged the creek of his bedroom door, or the feeling of his body being straightened out and his head being propped on a pillow.

What finally brought the boy back around from his semi consciousness was the sound of cursing. Not just any cursing either, but the usual, all too familiar sound of Arthur's cursing. As the warlock roused himself from his grogginess and became aware of his aching body, and the heavy presence of a blanket lifted to his shoulders, he heard the prince's irritated voice next to him.

"We are not having this discussion again!" It was said in a harsh whisper, like he was working to keep his voice down but was failing at the same time. "If you don't back off I swear I'll make you regret sticking around."

The blond was angry, and at first Merlin couldn't figure out at who. The royal would never dare to speak in such a manner to Gaius or Gwen, and the warlock knew no one else had any reason being in his room. But then he heard it, and everything made sense. An angry screech made his ears ring, and he felt a small weight pressing into his chest.

"I'm trying to help him! Why do you hate me?" Arthur shouted, his voice coming down only on the last few words as if suddenly remembering the boy was sleeping.

Cracking open his eyes, Merlin stared at the fuzzy baby owl sitting protectively on his chest, his feathers ruffled up and attempting to make himself look bigger as he screeched at Arthur again.

"Listen to me, you're tiny, and if you think you scare me, you're wrong."

Leaning forward with a wet cloth in hand, Arthur stretched out his arm only for the owl to lunge forward, jabbing its beak at the prince's exposed skin. The blond barely moved out of the way fast enough and let out another string of irritated curses.

"Fine, fine! I didn't want to do this anyway!" The prince scowled, throwing the cloth down and stepping away, turning his back on the two of them and running his hands through his hair.

The owl settled down almost immediately, turning its head to look at Merlin as the boy frowned. Nothing was said, but as Merlin shuddered again and coughed, the bird seemed to understand that he was in pain. Arthur turned back around just as Merlin's eyes fell shut again, and he heard the prince's footsteps coming closer.

"Let me help him." The man said quietly, and for a moment there was no sound.

No angry curses, no protective screeches, nothing. The next moment a blissfully cool cloth stretched across the warlock's forehead and Merlin practically cried with relief. His skin burned and ached but for a few wonderful moments he was focused entirely on the cold water against his face.

Attempting to show his gratitude, Merlin tried to speak, but his thanks came out too slurred and mumbled that he knew he hadn't made any sense.

"Shut up and rest, idiot." Arthur spoke from above him, and the warlock turned his head towards the voice. A heavy sigh escaped the man, and Merlin heard the chair scrape as the royal collapsed into it.

"Things keep happening." Arthur muttered after several minutes of silence, and the boy thought he was dreaming. "Morgana, the dragon, losing my knights, the Western Tower.. all of these things." The man trailed off and for several seconds Merlin thought he was finished, only for his voice to appear again, this time softer.

"I thought you died before. And I thought.. what I did.. I know it was wrong. Of course it's wrong because magic is wrong. But after everything that happened, I couldn't just let you die. But here we are again, and Gaius doesn't know how to help, and I feel useless just sitting here."

The owl snuggled against Merlin's neck again and the boy remained as still as possible. He'd never heard Arthur be so open before, and while a piece of him knew that letting the royal think he was asleep was wrong, this was so rare that he just couldn't help himself.

"Would you just hurry up and get better already? I'm sick of this nagging concern. You're a servant and yet I'm fretting over you like a.. a brother." Cutting himself off with a sharp breath, Arthur cleared his throat. "Don't ever repeat what I just said." The man spoke gruffly, and despite his eyes being closed, Merlin knew the man was directing it at his owl.

The boy knew better than to mention that he'd heard him, but he was also unable to keep himself from moving anymore. Shifting where he lay, Merlin started to open his eyes when pain laced through him, cutting into him more deeply than any physical wound he'd ever felt. It felt like his very soul was being torn apart.

Gasping for breath, Merlin lurched up, his back arching as he struggled to breathe through the pain. Why couldn't he get away from it? The world swam around him, and shadows crept along his bed and door as terror pulsed through him. What if this never ended? What if this was how he would suffer for the rest of his life?

Tears began to gather in the warlock's eyes, and he felt a hand grab hold of his arm. Fresh pain and fear shot blindly through him, and Merlin struggled to get away, whipping his head around to see an equally terrified expression on the prince's face.

"Merlin, Merlin. Calm down. Please. Gaius will be back soon; he'll know how to help." It was said reassuringly, but the man's expression was anything but calm.

And in that moment that was all it took. To see a man who exuded confidence and assurance almost all the time actually beginning to freak out. Merlin had never seen Arthur lose his composure in such a way before. In seconds the warlock's breathing had begun to slow, and weariness overtook him as the boy collapsed on his bed with a heavy breath.

"You're alright." Arthur said, his voice as calm and collected as before, though his face was finally reflecting it as well.

"I just want it to stop.." Merlin mumbled, swallowing thickly as Arthur's fingers tightened on his arm before starting to let go. "No, please." The boy whispered, looking up with pleading eyes at his friend. "It's.. It's helping me stay grounded."

"What—"

"I'm losing my mind." He whispered hoarsely, shaking his head and feeling the wet cloth from before press against his cheek from where it fallen onto his pillow. "Everything is bad. Bad and painful and I can't.." Sucking in a breath the boy choked on a sob.

"Shut up, Merlin. You're going to be fine." Arthur scolded, though his fingers tightened around the warlock's forearm before settling into a comfortable grip.

Seconds later that same small, pressing weight reappeared against him as the owl fit firmly into the crook of boy's neck, offering what comfort he could. Closing his eyes tightly, Merlin settled back, feeling the weight of sleep dragging him down after his outburst. As he calmed, he felt the cloth being replaced against his forehead, and his breathing settled into an even rhythm.

Just as he began to drift away, he heard the prince's voice speaking softly. "You'd better be alright, you dollop head."

Smiling ever so slightly, Merlin forced his lips to move. "That's my word.. prat.." And then he was gone, drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep, left with the sound of a soft chuckle coming from his friend.

When he woke up nothing felt real. No pressure remained on Merlin's chest and his fever had broken, leaving him sweaty, gross, and relieved all at the same time. For the first time in what felt like days the boy felt good, and for a moment he stayed where he was, his eyes closed, and reveled in the feeling.

What spurred him to move was another fresh cloth dabbing at his forehead, and when Merlin opened his eyes he found himself looking up into the face of his guardian.

"Gaius—" He began, only to quickly be shushed by the elder as he leaned closer and made a gesture to the boy's other side.

Turning his head, Merlin couldn't speak. Was he still dreaming? Surely that was the only way he would be seeing what he thought he was seeing. But no, it wasn't a dream. Which meant he was awake. Which also meant that the Prince of Camelot himself was asleep beside him.

Arthur's arms were spread on the bed with his head resting against them, his eyes closed, and mouth barely parted as he breathed slowly and peacefully. One hand lay near Merlin, his fingers outstretched as if he'd been holding onto the warlock's arm until the boy himself had pulled away in his sleep. And there, between the two boys and curled against the prince's arm was his owl, asleep as well.

"How are you feeling?" Gaius' soft voice drew the boy back to reality, and Merlin knew the moment Arthur awoke that any and all evidence of this would be gone and the man would never admit to having been there or having stayed.

"All of it was in your head, obviously, your fever was quite high. Or so I was told." The prince would no doubt say.

But for now it was real, and Merlin smiled a bit. Despite their bickering, Arthur did consider him a friend. A brother. Though he supposed that doubt had been pushed aside a while ago when he'd used magic to save him.

Finally turning to look at Gaius, Merlin barely nodded. "Better. Much better." He said quietly, and the physician nodded.

"You're recovering well now, considering." Frowning at the comment, Merlin cut his eyes back to Arthur. What he'd gone through was considered recovering well?

"Why were Gwen and Arthur here?" He asked softly, watching the royal's back rise and fall with his steady breaths. When the elder didn't answer Merlin looked up, surprised at the grim look his guardian wore.

"You've been in and out of consciousness for over two days, Merlin." As the words left him, the warlock's mouth fell open as he stared while the elder continued. "This is day three, and they were growing worried. That, and I needed the assistance."

"Worried?" Merlin forced out, turning back again to look at Arthur.

"Some are more willing to admit it than others." Gaius spoke with a hint of amusement.

Blinking slowly, Merlin lifted his head and met the physician's gaze as guilt began clawing up his throat. "I'm sorry, Gaius. For everything."

Lifting a hand to stop the boy's apology, Gaius shook his head. "We have a very long discussion ahead of us, but not today. You still need to fully recover."

Barely nodding again, Merlin glanced at the baby owl still nestled between his arm and Arthur's. "What will happen to him?" He asked warily, eyeing the small bird while Gaius released a heavy breath.

"I think you and I both know that the creature is attached to you now. Getting it to leave will be impossible I'm sure." Forcing back the smile that was threatening to rise, Merlin made a noise of agreement. "I get the sense that you already knew that was the case, however."

"I can't explain it," The boy shrugged one shoulder, looking back at the physician. "But we're connected in a way."

"That isn't surprising, given what you did. As it grows older, you do realize that things will grow more complicated, don't you?"

"I know." The boy said, lifting his free arm and reaching over to brush a finger against the owl's feathers as the creature lifted its head and stared at him. "But we'll figure it out, together. After all, Archimedes is smarter than he looks."

"Some might even say the same of you." Gaius spoke, and for the first time he cracked a smile. "And that's as fine a name as any, I suppose."

Glancing at the physician, Merlin returned the smile.

Lifting an old, weathered hand, Gaius brushed the boy's hair back and replaced the cool cloth against his skin. "I am glad you're alright, Merlin." A look of concern crossed the elder's face before he could mask it. "Your body, your mind, and your soul have all taken a beating this time around. You'll need to be more careful. You may not recover so easily from now on, nor will you be as likely to fight off illness."

The physician's eyes fell for a moment and Merlin swallowed, cutting his gaze briefly to the prince still sleeping soundly next to him. Just how close to death had he been for Arthur to be at his bedside?

"Thank you for helping me, Gaius. And for looking out for me." He spoke, retrieving a weary smile from the man he looked up to as a father.

"Always, my boy."

A/N

And our bird has a name! Though I did enjoy thinking of him as Owliver, Archimedes was the only way to go!

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I was asked by a reviewer (who always makes my day with their comments btw) to really give detail to his recovery this time around, so here you go! I hope it lived up to what you were wanting!

I would love to hear from you guys, any comments or questions always welcome! And if there's any trope or specific thing you'd like to see in these just let me know and I'll see what I can do! See you guys next time as we head into season three! 3