He was bleeding out, he knew it. Felt it.

And yet, he could barely resist the urge to run in the opposite direction.

Taking out the knife with a grunt, he readied to stab it once more. This time aiming for a killing blow. If he aimed at his heart, he would die instantly. The creature within him would then expel itself of its own free will.

Taking in a deep, rattling breath, he braced himself for his 7th demise.

The door to the infirmary creaked ominously behind him. And he resisted the urge to turn around.

"Merlin?" Gaius inquired softly from behind him. "Are you alright, my boy?" The man took a step towards him and he could feel his will diminishing. He couldn't do this to Gaius, could he? Die in front of the man he considered the closest thing to a father.

"Merlin?" Lancelot? No... this was bad, what was he doing here.

"A-ah, hey, I was just fetching s-something from my room." He stammered, his voice weak and trembling from the pain radiating from his bleeding stomach. He tried to take the final steps towards his room, but soon found himself crumpling down. His legs finally gave out on him, having lost all their strength along with his energy. "O-oh" He breathed as his gaze looked at the dusty ceiling above. It seems he didn't need to stab himself again, after all.

"Merlin!" The two men shouted in unison, worry and fear evident in their tones. "Oh, God! Gaius he's bleeding out!"

His vision dimmed as darkness deeper than black clouded his gaze and ate away at the remaining light that encircled the world.

Lancelot had a nice voice, he thought as the breath left his lungs for the last time.

_______________________________

Lancelot doesn't know how much more of this he could possibly take.

He looked at the man lying in front of him, seemingly peacefully asleep if it wasn't for his blue-tinged lips and the absence of breath leaving his lungs.

They'd been too late. By the time he and Gaius had moved to take action, the warlock had already succumbed to his wounds.

Self-inflicted, Lancelot's mind hissed treacherously.

They had been completely floured, at first. For they couldn't even fathom a reason for all this, why would a man, who knew himself to be immortal, try and kill himself?

Lancelot's mind had come up with a thousand different unthinkable explanations but in the end, it wasn't until Gaius was examining his ward's body that they finally found the cause.

A snake-like creature had clawed its way out of the back of Merlin's neck. Somehow eating through flesh and muscle alike to escape its vessel's dying form.

Gaius had immediately researched the abomination in one of his many books, and what they found only made the dread fill their veins. A Fomorroh. A creature meant to take over its victim's thoughts and overpower their entire sense of self with its all dominating will.

The physician had summarized that it was probably Morgana's doing. Another one of her endless ploys at killing Arthur and taking over Camelot, they presumed. And that it was a miracle that Merlin had been able to fight it at all, let alone defy it as he had.

It didn't make it easier, however. Looking at the motionless figure, he knew what he had done to protect his king. To protect them all.

Anger, hot and searing boiled inside of him. Wanting nothing more than to shake the man awake, shout and scream at him until his throat would mirror the state of his aching heart.

All he could do was hold onto him, in the end. Fingers intertwined with the cold skin that accompanied death, waiting for the warmth to come back into the flesh beneath his touch, for the breath to fill his lungs, and the color to come back to his pale skin. All the while his own hands trembled and shook with the need to do something, anything to make this all go away.

His only satisfaction, and really, the only good thing that had come out of this, was the dead creature resting on the wood of Gaius's desk. One that would, thankfully, never revive. As Gaius had explained, any other way of removing it would have eventually been useless, for it had the power to grow back into its victims endlessly, or at least for as long as their hearts kept beating.

Morgana would be in for a rude, confusing awakening.

Gaius, the dark skin beneath his eyes more prominent than they were a few hours ago, looking somehow older now than he had before, stood up from his desk, then. Walking on slow, unsteady feet as he made his way towards them. Lancelot watched him survey Merlin with sorrow. His eyes shone as he looked at his ward, who by all definitions of the word, was dead to the world.

"Are you certain that he really will-"

"Yes," Lancelot answered without hesitation. He'd seen it happen, on multiple occasions. And if it didn't, well, then... He didn't think he'd make it, himself. "He will." He whispered determinedly. "He has to." Otherwise, he'd call back the Cailleach into their world and kill the man himself. He thought bitterly, knowing that his anger was somewhat both irrational and yet entirely justified.

As if he'd been waiting for his cue or a say-so, the warlock's fingers twitched within his hold.

Pale, frozen skin, gaining redness as blood resumed its flow in his veins. A sharp, choked breath escaped his still blueish lips as they parted. Wheezing as if he'd been plunged underwater for an eternity and had finally resurfaced at last.

Limbs flew in all directions, one arm flinging him back as the man flailed and fought his way out of oblivion. Heaving breath marking his every move as he thrashed against his hold, fighting against an invisible force as his mind battled its way back into consciousness.

"Arthur!" He screamed, or at least he would have if his throat wasn't so dry and his voice would listen to his commands. "No, don't!" He coughed, "I can't! Please!" Desperation tinged his every syllable as he continued to struggle in Lancelot's trembling arms. "Don't make me do this!"

"It's alright, my boy," Gaius hurried to calm down his ward, hovering on the other side of the patient's cot uncertainly, heartbreak twisting his features. "You're safe, Merlin. You're safe."

That didn't seem to calm him down in the least, and Lancelot could feel the beginning of scratches marring his skin as the warlock continued to fight. Multiple items in the room started to shake in their place, only adding to the distress of its occupants.

"Don't! No! Arthur!" His breath was coming in heaves, barely letting his body get used to its newly regained oxygen as he exerted himself.

"You're okay Merlin, stop fighting." Giaus pleaded uselessly. His

Merlin's heartbeat was loud and fast against Lancelot's chest as he tried to embrace him tighter, hoping that the act would calm him down. He realized then, what was the problem.

"Merlin." He murmured right next to the man's ear, softer than he'd ever spoken before. "It's alright, Arthur is safe." He whispered, heart, squeezing in his chest as the boy in his arms froze, as if struck by one of his own time spells. "You saved him. He's alive and well." Like a puppet whose ropes had been slashed, Merlin slumped in his hold, head falling to rest against his shoulder. All fight effectively drained out of him.

"Ah," Gaius uttered inaudibly. Eyes softening as he regarded his charge. They really should have expected this.

"L-lance?" A tiny whisper tingled against his skin.

"Yes, Merlin." He squeezed the warlocks back, relief flooding his body as his adrenaline crashed now that it was over. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to him, to shout at him but for now, he was still here, he was alive, that was all that mattered. "I'm here."

"Is Arthur?" Merlin seemed frightened to even fathom the rest of his sentence.

"Like I said, He's safe." He reassured, feeling some of the tension seep out of the man as he heard the words. "You kept him safe."

"And are you-?" Heart clenching, fists tightening in the boy's shirt, he replied. "I am unharmed." Physically, he was, at least.

"That's good." He could feel the energy drain out of the boy, his body burrowing even further into his embrace. "Good." He mumbled as he succumbed to sleep. Exhausted.

He supposed, bitterly, that this was one way of getting the warlock to rest.

Letting go of the body, and letting it fall back into the rough mattress, he looked up, gaze finding the older man's as they regarded each other seriously.

They would have to talk to Merlin eventually. But for now, they would let him get the rest he needed.

Finally letting his own exhaustion take hold of him, he slumped into his seat, arms coming up to cushion his head as he let sleep overtake his own mind.

__________________________

"What in the world were you thinking!?" A voice hissed, loud enough to penetrate his hazy thoughts.

"I wasn't going to let that thing control me, Gaius. Surely you must understand?" Another replied almost desperately. "I would have killed him, Gaius. I- I had the knife poised to strike him in his sleep, It would have made me do it, can't you see? I didn't have a choice."

"We could have found another way, you didn't have to- to-"The older man faltered, his voice breaking and Lancelot couldn't remain silent any longer.

"You didn't have to kill yourself." His voice was hard, words harsh and unforgiving. They seemed to put a stop to whatever comeback the warlock had been prepared to throw their way. Blue eyes looking back at him with shock and a hint of something like betrayal. Lancelot remained strong in the face of such emotions, despite the desperate urge he could feel to wipe away that expression from the boy's face.

"I'm sorry." He wasn't, they both knew it. "I couldn't risk it."

"Do you care so little for your own life?"

"That's not- you know it's not like that." His eyes were wide with hurt.

"Is it not?" Merlin breaks away from the man's intense stare, feeling his chest tighten at the emotions he finds within those steel eyes.

"I couldn't let him die, no matter what." His life was expandable, he could die as many times as he wanted. Arthur's was not.

"So nothing else matters?" His voice is eerily calm. "Not even the worry and pain you cause to those around you?" He shoots Gaius a glance, letting Merlin know that his action did indeed have consequences, severe ones. And I, Do I matter to you? Was left unspoken, hanging in the air between them like the sharp end of a drawn blade

. "Lancelot..." The knight stands up then, his face a perfect mask of indifference as he regards the warlock neutrally, expression betraying nothing of the storm of emotions that thrashed within him.

"I'll take my leave, now." He says calmly. Hands falling at his sides, fists unclenching. Right before he crosses the threshold out the door, he stops, gaze trained to the side. "If you wish to remain on this path, then so be it, Merlin. However, do not expect me to stand by and watch." The door that shuts behind him feels far more final than he thinks it should be.

His chest aches as he marches away, eyes shining with hurt.

___________________________________

"Merlin." Arthur calls for what feels like the twelfth time in the last hour. "Would you please keep your focus for more than ten seconds?" He drawls in exasperation, twirling the quill between his fingers as he watches his servant flit through the room anxiously, fluffing the same pillow for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. "What's up with you? You have been acting strange since you got back."

Merlin, for his part, has the decency to look sheepish, one hand coming up to rub at his neck as he continues to fiddle with the edge of his sheets. "Ah, I don't know what you mean, sire."

"Is that so?" Arthur eyes him suspiciously, standing up from his desk, knowing that he wouldn't get any work done if his servant kept distracting him like this. "The blank paper on my desk says otherwise." He starts slowly, "I called you here to help me with my speech, after all."

"Arthur..."

"Ready to talk now?" He ventures, satisfied now that the servant is finally looking his way. He noted with rising worry how thin Merlin seemed these days, how dark the bags under his eyes were.

"I'm fine, Arthur." He says, shuffling from one foot to the other. "I- I just think that I need to get back into the run of things, you know?"

"So, it wouldn't have anything to do with your fight with Lancelot, now would it?" He sees Merlin tense and Arthur knows he's hit his mark.

"H-how did you hear about that?" The warlock asks nervously, afraid of the answer.

"Please, the entire castle has been talking about it, you two are thicker than thieves, and now, suddenly, neither of you can stand to be in the same room as the other."

"I- it's complicated, but I've got it handled, alright?" His voice is small as he says so, gaze miles away.

"Well, if you say so," The king says carefully, eyes still narrowed onto his friend. And after a moment of hesitation, he adds, voice barely louder than a mumble. "But if you need to talk, I might be amenable to lend you an ear."

"Yeah?" Merlin smiles at that, a genuine smile, the first he's mustered in a while, stretching his face almost painfully. "So kind of you, my lord."

"Of course, I'm the paragon of kindness, Merlin, haven't you heard?" His face mirrors the other one's by now, both of them looking way too cheerful for the words that come out of their mouths. "Not that you need the extra ears, mind you, what with-"He gestures to the general area of the boy's head.

Merlin scoffs. "You're one to talk! Wouldn't want to overshadow that big, massive head of yours."

"Is that any way to talk to your king?" His smile only gets wider.

"Well, you-"

Needless to say, no speeches were written that day. However, when Merlin goes back to his chambers, he feels marginally lighter.

__________________________

Another vase breaks, shards showering the floor as they hit the wall, shattering into a dozen parts. One hits Aggravain's cheek, drawing a speck of blood. "My lady, you must calm down."

"Agh!" Morgana snarls, throwing more of her items around the room in her anger. Magic flaring, making the air cackle with energy. Aggravain gulps at the display, feeling particularly his vulnerability. "It's him, I just know it!"

"Him?" He repeats and is ignored just as well.

"He's foiled my plans once again!" She screams, hands fisting into her hair. "But how, how the hell did he manage to kill my Fomorroh, without having access to the original."

She doesn't seem to be expecting an answer, as she continues a moment later. "You are sure that Merlin still lives, are you not?"

"Yes, my lady, the boy is alive." He wouldn't have heard the end of it otherwise, he thinks bitterly. "Arthur too, is in perfect health.

She growls, once again resuming her pacing. "Emrys." The name is filled with so much venom that it makes him shudder. "It has to be."

She would get her revenge, that old fool wouldn't stop her again. Not if she had anything to say about it. But first, she had to find out where he was.

With that, she began formulating her plan.