A/N: I am back! I haven't abandoned this! This chapter was a nightmare to write but there is probably only one or two after this one, so we are nearing the end. Thank you all for being so patient and so kind and generally so damn wonderful. I really do appreciate it.

And yes, I burned down the print company who fired me. It felt great. Suck on that, bitches!

Enjoy this chapter :)

He crept closer to the door, knife in his hand, feeling less confident than he looked. Sarah seized Jocelyn's hand. Arthur opened the door.

Merlin stood on the other side, eyes wide and glassy. "Hi," he said.

One day, long ago in Camelot, before Arthur died and Merlin lost his mind, the two of them went hunting. Well, it was more that Arthur was hunting and Merlin was trailing along behind, sulking and occasionally making loud noises so that prey would run away and avoid Arthur's crossbow arrows. Arthur's father was very ill at Camelot, his spirit failing after Morgana had revealed her treachery, and Arthur had been left to run the kingdom almost all by himself. He was feeling irritable and worried, and Merlin loudly complaining wasn't helping, so he had strode on ahead through the forest to avoid having a raging argument with his useless manservant that he might regret later. Merlin had dropped behind, no doubt sensing Arthur's mood, and soon Arthur had almost forgotten he was there at all, and let himself be calmed by the noises of the forest, the wind rustling the trees, the call of birds.

Then he'd heard a loud crash and a cry, sharply cut off, and he'd realised it was Merlin's voice even before he'd turned and started running back towards him. He'd found that a landslide of trees had fallen down the edge of the small ravine they had been walking along the top of, and Arthur knew without a doubt that Merlin, who attracted trouble like honey attracted flies, had been caught in it. He threw himself to the ground and looked over the ravine's edge, scanning the detritus of foliage and soil for his manservant. He'd seen Merlin almost straight away; he'd been thrown clear of the landslide and he was wearing his red shirt, so he was easily noticeable. But he was lying down, and he wasn't moving.

It was almost daft, considering the many dilemmas the two of them had faced before, but this was the moment that made Arthur's heart stop in terror. No magical beasts, or curses, or sorcerers, but a simple landslide and Merlin not moving. Arthur had been scared before, even a few times absolutely petrified, but nothing had ever quite matched this. He couldn't breathe.

And then Merlin had moved, twitching an arm and moving his head, and had said very clearly, "Ow," and relief had hit Arthur like a slap around the face, robbing him of breath for the second time but in a different way.

Seeing Merlin standing in the doorway now, thousands of years later, did exactly the same thing.

"Merlin," he said with the last of his breath.

Merlin shrugged awkwardly. "No, still Martin I'm afraid."

Arthur seized Merlin by the arms, his relief and joy tumbling over each other. "Whatever," he said. "I don't care."

Merlin smiled. "I have no idea," he said happily, "What I'm doing here."

Arthur dragged Merlin into the flat before he could change his mind.

Dan opened his eyes, and wondered for a moment if he had, because it was just as dark as when he had had his eyes shut. He sat still for a moment, wondering if his eyes would adjust to the light, but nothing seemed forthcoming. He swallowed hard.

"Turn on the light," he said out loud, marshalling some magic together in case there was anyone in the room whom he could command.

Instead of light, there came a chuckle instead. "Sorry, little warlock," said a female voice, "That doesn't work on me. And even if it did, there are no lights to turn on. Here." A pair of hands reached behind his head and tugged at something, and he felt a scrap of fabric fall from his eyes. He blinked into daylight, and into a face that was horrifyingly familiar.

Morgana smiled, a slow stretch of a smile. "Hello Dan," she said.

Dan looked wildly around him; he was in some sort of flat, the door was just behind him and he wasn't tied up, but nevertheless he didn't like his chances of escaping.

"I'm not keeping you against your will," Morgana said. Dan glanced back at her. Morgana shrugged. "I'm not," she said. "You can leave any time."

Dan set his jaw. "You snatched me from the street," he snapped. "Forgive me if I don't believe you!"

Morgana stared at him for a long moment. "I brought you here because I need you to listen to me. I have something to tell you about Merlin. You don't have to listen if you don't want to."

Dan stared at her, but he didn't move away. "Why me?" he said. "Why not any of the others?"

Morgana smiled, and it was a sad smile. "Because he hasn't been lying to them like he's been lying to you," she said.

Arthur led Merlin to a seat on the sofa. The others clustered around him.

"I don't know why I came," Merlin was babbling. "Not really. I just. I saw the article in the newspaper and - and Morgan had this scratch on her face - and I - it all just seemed to be too much of a coincidence - and are you okay?" He directed this to Arthur.

Arthur nodded and managed a smile. "Worried about Dan but relieved to see you," he said.

This did not seem to soothe Merlin. He was looking at Arthur desperately, as if trying to reaffirm that he was actually all right. "It was just," he said. "I…I had this dream…"

Arthur stared at him. Merlin blinked, then recovered himself with a little laugh. "Sorry," he said. "It's been a really weird few days."

"Are you starting to believe us?" Donald asked earnestly. "What Arthur is - what you are?"

Merlin glanced at him, looking for all the world like a small, lost child. "I don't know," he said.

Sarah stood up suddenly. "Never mind that now," she said. "What about Dan?" She was nibbling her lip worriedly.

"I can't try to locate him," Jocelyn said, running a hand through her straggly grey hair. "All my equipment was in the HQ, and it's all burned up. Without it, I'm - I'm nothing."

Sarah turned to Merlin. "Merlin, did Morgana say anything to you?"

Merlin shook his head. He was so pale, Arthur thought suddenly. Surely he had never been this pale before? "I don't think so," he said. "She just said she was going to be out late doing some modelling, that's all."

"She could be anywhere," Turk said.

Sarah let out an exasperated groan, wheeling around. "I was meant to look after everyone," she said. "If anything happened to the Prof - I mean, to you." She gestured helplessly at Merlin, who shrugged just as helplessly back.

Sarah dropped her arms, sitting down on the sofa. "I was meant to look after them," she said. "The Prof relied on me. And now Dan's gone and the Prof might as well be gone and we can't - "

She buried her face in her hands. Turk wound a comforting arm around her shoulders. Arthur and Merlin glanced at each other, but for once could find nothing to say.

"He's lied to you," Morgana said, taking a seat opposite Dan so that she could look him in the eyes. "He's lied to the others as well, I suppose, but not as much as to you. You see, you all think falsehoods about your powers. Falsehoods he has told you. You were all so grateful he took you in that you didn't question his knowledge. You accepted whatever he said about you."

Dan realised he was trembling a little. "What are you talking about?"

Morgana sat back in her chair. "I've been watching you all these past few years. Three years I've been here, watching. I know some things about you that Merlin hasn't told you. That he wouldn't tell you. Because he has power over you as you are, he keeps you where he wants you, just in case he ever needs you, in case his precious Arthur came back and he had to use you. He never really cared about you."

She leaned forward. Dan did not move backwards. "You remind me of someone," she said softly. "Another young boy I knew a long time ago. A young boy with a lot of power. Merlin tried to destroy him too. Well, I won't let him do that to you."

Dan stared at her. "What did you mean about the lies?" he asked.

Morgana regarded him steadily. Suddenly she didn't seem mad, she didn't seem evil. She looked at him as if he were an equal. "You have a great power," she said. "Merlin told you that you couldn't use it on people of magic. He lied."

There was something knocking on the inside of Martin's head. It was demanding attention but every time he tried to focus on it, it would slip away like water through his fingers. It was starting to give him a headache.

The time was slipping away too, so that it was evening now, and the studio flat had become cramped with so many people in it. Turk and Donald were propped up against the kitchen counters, eating their way through Martin/Merlin's food and murmuring to one another. Jocelyn was trying to calm down Sarah, who seemed torn between crying and shouting. And Arthur, oddly, was flicking through Martin/Merlin's bookshelf, occasionally pulling out a book and humming at it as if he recognised something about it.

Martin felt lost, more lost than he ever had before.

"He let your friend Turk believe that his magic could work on anyone, that he could render anyone invisible and soundless, but that is not the case - people of magic can see through his enchantments. You saw that yourself when you came to take Merlin from me," Morgana said. "And you also saw how Merlin behaved when you commanded him. He obeyed you."

"Yes," Dan said through gritted teeth. "Because he thought he was a normal person. Because you had enchanted him."

"No," Morgana said, shaking her head. "No, Dan. He obeyed you because you are powerful, perhaps even more powerful than the great Emrys himself. Anything you say must be obeyed. By anyone, magic or not."

Dan stared at her.

"And I need your help," said Morgana.

"There's something," Martin said, rubbing his forehead. "There's something…not…" He sighed and sat back, the thought running from him again, and realised Arthur was watching him closely from the bookshelf.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Martin shrugged, feeling ridiculous. "It's like there's something in my head," he said. "And I can't get it out - I can't - "

Arthur put the book down and held out a hand to Martin. "Come on," he said, "Let's go for a walk."

Martin stared at him.

"Morgana will be too preoccupied with Dan to go on the hunt for you just yet," Arthur said. "Come on."

He wriggled his fingers at Martin. Martin hesitated, then reach out and took his hand. He expected a rush of memories, a pull back to that strange world of castles and cloaks, but instead all he felt were the warm callused fingers of Arthur's against his. He glanced up at Arthur, to see if he was seeing something Martin was not, but Arthur's eyes were only for him, present and clear and blue as the summer sky.

"Come on, clotpole," he said, and smiled.

They made their way to the Thames in silent accord. Arthur stole quick looks at Merlin as they went, at his face as it glimmered in the lights of London, yellow under passing taxi lights, amber under streetlamps, red and blue and white under the moving, flashing adverts of Piccadilly Circus. He looked strange in the different lights, he looked out of place. Merlin's face belonged in stone corridors, in great halls, lit by candles and blazing braziers, not here in this artificial, foreign world. It was a face of long ago, not a face for these days. Arthur wondered if he looked the same.

But then, he thought, as they meandered along the Embankment by the Thames, perhaps this was just his imagination. He was so used to seeing Merlin in the context of Camelot that to see him outside of it just felt wrong. And yet…maybe that was how it needed to be now.

They stopped at Cleopatra's Needle and lingered against the railings by the Thames, looking up at the great stone obelisk and the iron, hole-riddled sphinxes that guarded it either side. A red painted statue of St George's dragon had been placed nearby, silently mocking Arthur through the darkness.

For a while, they said nothing. Merlin leaned on the railings, looking over at the Thames and all the lights that twinkled along the stretch of it. He seemed calmer than he had in the flat. And Arthur found himself looking at him, really looking at him for the first time, as Martin and not as Merlin.

Martin, kitted out in a hoodie and shabby jeans, Martin the telecom salesman, who lived with his crazy model housemate and had a sister and a mother and a father. Martin, who liked salt and vinegar crisps and arguing with people and missing work. Martin was a creation, but he was still a person. He was as real as Merlin.

"I've been a fool," Arthur said.

Martin glanced at him but said nothing, and Arthur thought it must have only been the expression on his face that had stopped Martin from making a quip.

Arthur took a deep breath and let go of the railing. "I have been single-minded and idiotic," he said. "I have been ignoring Martin for Merlin. I have…broken in to something new and just tried to destroy it, without ever attempting to understand it. I vanished for years and then I just came back and tried to make things like they were, but they will never be so. Even if you were still Merlin, we would never be the same Arthur and Merlin. And I've been acting like a selfish, royal child, stamping my foot and demanding Merlin back. But maybe I shouldn't have been doing that at all. Maybe I should have been accepting Martin. Understanding Martin. Listening to Martin."

He stopped for breath. Martin was staring at him with wide, blue eyes, and Arthur felt suddenly bereft. "It's all gone," he said. "Everything. Camelot…you. You are gone, Merlin." His voice cracked. "I am sorry. I did not see."

"Arthur," Martin said softly.

Arthur shook his head. "No," he said. "I should end this. I should accept Martin. And if I am going to…then I should leave you alone."

Martin looked stricken. "No!" he said. "Wait, you can't, not when I'm starting to believe - "

"That's just it, maybe you shouldn't," Arthur said desperately. "Maybe you need to just forget." He stopped, took in a quick breath. "That world is gone," he said. "This world has replaced it. Arthur and Merlin cannot exist where they do not belong. They have had their time. And they should part ways now."

Martin stared at him, eyes glassy. He was clinging to the railing as if he were drowning, as if he were in the Thames rather than on the other side of it. "You can't," he said. "You can't leave me!"

Arthur bit his lip. "It's better this way."

Martin's expression started to crumble. "Arthur - " he said, and took a step towards him.

Arthur froze. "I can't."

"No," begged Martin. "No, you - "

"Just - " Arthur unfroze and stepped forward as well, until they were particularly nose to nose.

They stared at each other through the white and blue lights of London.

"Please don't go," Martin said.

"One last thing." Arthur cupped his cheek with one gentle hand, felt Martin's cheekbones press against his palm.

"Stay with me," Martin whispered, and then Arthur kissed him.

He'd wanted to kiss Merlin when he'd been dying, but there hadn't been any time and he hadn't had enough breath left in him. In the end, he decided that saying 'thank you' seemed more important than saying 'I love you'. He had often regretted his choice later on. So he had shouted it across to Merlin in the early days of being stuck on that island, in the desperate hope that Merlin might hear something, sense something. But Merlin had never reacted, not once. And then he'd just stopped visiting and Arthur gave up.

At least, he thought, as firm lips met firm lips, he got to say it now.

It was a warm kiss, a steady kiss, but not without its hint of loneliness and desperation. It was a goodbye kiss, everything Arthur had felt for so long, poured into one single, sad gesture.

It was halfway through the kiss when something changed. Nothing recognisable, nothing tangible. Martin just turned his head slightly, his hands grasping Arthur's shoulders, and Arthur was hit with a such a surge of familiarity that his knees almost buckled underneath him.

Familiar. Suddenly Martin seemed more familiar to Arthur than he had ever felt during this whole debacle.

So familiar that it was no longer a kiss goodbye but a call home.

He was calling Merlin home.

He broke the kiss. The lights of London were still there, and the whispering Thames, and the faded stone obelisk, and yet something had changed.

He stared at Martin, then realised he was no longer looking at Martin at all.

"Merlin?" he murmured.

Merlin smiled at him, that old smile from very long ago. "Hi," he said.

Arthur didn't need to ask any more questions. This was Merlin, as surely as the man previously standing before him had been Martin. It was Merlin's warmth against him, and Merlin's scent, and Merlin's eyes, Merlin's smile.

He tugged Merlin closer and wound his arms more securely around his back and buried his face in his shoulder. Merlin smelled like Camelot, he smelled like home. "Oh God," said Arthur, and couldn't say any more.

Merlin started shaking, tightened his grip on his shoulders and choked out Arthur's name and then clung on hard, as if Arthur had just saved him from drowning. "Arthur," he said. And then again, as if he couldn't believe it, "Arthur." Hiccupping and stuttering his way through the syllables, but not stopping. "Arthur," he repeated endlessly. "My Arthur. My Arthur."

They loosened their hold on each other after a while, but didn't let go. Arthur rested his chin on Merlin's head and looked at the lights reflected in the Thames, and blinked until his vision stopped blurring. Merlin's hands were stroking steady, warm patterns along his back and he was murmuring a faint tune, though Arthur wasn't sure whether he realised he was doing it or not.

"How did that work?" he asked finally, and was proud to hear his voice did not crack.

Merlin shook his head against Arthur's chest. "I'm a regular sleeping beauty," he said dryly.

Arthur frowned. "A what?"

"Never mind." Merlin let go of Arthur and straightened up, and they stood and regarded each other for a moment, with stupid smiles on their faces.

"We've got to go back," Merlin said. "I've remembered what I was trying to remember before. I know how to save Dan. But we have to go back to the others now." He hesitated. "If you'll come with me."

Arthur hesitated as well. "Where's Martin?" he asked. "Is he gone?"

Merlin shook his head. "He's in here," he said, tapping at his temple. "I can remember his life, everything. But it never existed. It feels…odd. To have a life that never existed."

Arthur nodded. "And you…remember everything?"

Merlin grinned. "I remember that you're a clotpole and a prat and a cabbage head, and all sorts of things, idiot. Now we really need to go."

He moved to take Arthur's hand. Arthur flinched back. "So you remember," he said, his voice cracking again. "Why you abandoned me?"

Merlin froze, and stared at him.

"I saw it," Arthur said, and now his voice was just hoarse and pained. "I was standing on that island, Merlin, and I was awake, and I saw all of it. All the years passing by, and you barely came to see me one in a hundred. Why?"

Merlin was looking like Arthur had slapped him. "I can't," he croaked, and then stopped. "Arthur," he said, clearing his throat, "Please. Can we talk about this later? We need to save Dan."

Arthur sighed. "How?"

Merlin grabbed his arm and led him away from Cleopatra's Needle. "Jocelyn," he said.