Title: Dare You To Move: Watching You Now

Author: Arisprite

Summary: It all came down to either act or do nothing, and really the alternative was too horrible to contemplate. There wasn't a choice really, no matter the consequences.

Word Count: 8,372 (Whole thing)

Warnings: (General) Wounds, blood, gore, potentially dangerous, and perhaps not thoroughly researched medical practices, tiny bit of swearing. No slash intended, but friendship can look like more from the outside. You're free to take my words however you like. (This part) Description of wounds and treatment, some torture, a bit of swearing.

Disclaimer: Obviously I am not the owner of BBC or Shine. I'm a college student! Title and song lyrics belong to Switchfoot's "Dare You To Move".

Series: Part 5 of the Physician's Apprentice Series (formerly titled Five Times Merlin Had To Heal Someone Else, and One Time He Had To Heal Himself). Merlin has gotten tired of never knowing what to do in emergencies, and heaven knows his healing magic is unreliable at best. So he begins to study medicine under Gaius, just in case.

A/N: This part became a monster, and is much longer than any of the others, so it will be broken in chapters. Please, read, review and enjoy!

Thank You: To my sister, Kate-7h, who is awesome, and is my unofficial beta in all things Merlin. I owe you a treat!

Welcome to the planet

Welcome to existence

Everyone's here

Everyone's here

Everybody's watching you now

Everybody waits for you now

What happens next?

What happens next?

"This is entirely your fault, you know." Arthur said petulantly. Merlin rolled his eyes, and stared at the ceiling of the cave they were sequestered in. It was a dark cave, so he couldn't make much of it out, but it was better than seeing the anger and pain in Arthur's face, or the hopeless situation they had found themselves in.

Arthur continued, his voice a bit weaker than before. "Well, maybe not entirely. More like 70%. 60/40 and not a bit under that..." He trailed off, and Merlin stole another peak at the king.

His face was thunderous, but the anger was giving way to pain as his head ache made itself known. Blood caked down the side of his face, and he did not have the strength to hold his head up for long. It was currently leaning against Merlin's shoulder; tied up as they were, neither of them had much choice.

After overwhelming both Merlin and Arthur, with injuries aplenty between the two of them, their captors had thrown them in the back of this cave, making camp at the front. The warmth of their fire was far enough away that Merlin and Arthur could feel none of it, and both had been shivering for a while now.

Merlin bit his lip as he looked Arthur over again. The head wound was only one worry; Arthur had many cuts and bruises from the rough fight, and worst was a deep gash on his thigh. His bound hands could reach from where they sat, and thus Merlin's neckerchief was tied solidly around the wound, but it wasn't near enough. It still bled sluggishly, soaking the cloth, without treatment Arthur was in real danger of infection.

Merlin tensed, shifting with a wince, careful not to dislodge Arthur's head. He'd been hit too, his furious fighting after Arthur'd been hit, meant that he became the sole target for a few minutes until he was restrained, and thus was covered with bruises, though nothing major. Sitting on a hard rock floor with the nearly dead weight of Arthur pressing against him didn't help.

He could have used his magic, he'd been ready to, after Arthur had fallen, but a solid kick to the midsection stole his breath, and by the time he'd regained his wits, he was bound tight. Merlin now waited for the opportune moment to escape, hopefully without Arthur or the bandits knowing about his magic.

At that moment, the bandits as one rose from their seats around the fire, to greet a newcomer at the mouth of the cave. They whispered together for a few moments, and Merlin strained to hear the words to no avail. The man seemed to bring the other bandits surprising news, for they reeled back in shock, and then turned to stare at their two prisoners behind them. Merlin returned their look with a mighty glare. Arthur sensed his tension, and raised his head with an effort, peering at the group with squinted eyes.

After a few more hurried murmurs, the bandits turned and came deeper into the cave, closer to Merlin and Arthur.

"Well, well. Looks like we have caught a prize, now. Haven't we?" The leader, a nasty man named Benjaminus leaned forwards, and peered into Arthur's face. Arthur stared back impassively, all signs of his concussion gone, in its place was raw nobility. "A little king."

Merlin felt a rush of ice, for up to this point, the bandits had given no sign that they knew Arthur was the king of Camelot. A king was a great prize indeed, and a lone one in the wilderness a vulnerable one.

"And the king of Camelot, no less." Benjaminus drew a thin knife, causing Merlin to tense, magic nearly flashing out from behind his eyes, but he merely picked at his dirty nails with it. "Your safe return would bring a mighty price."

Arthur could not deny it, and stayed silent, his eyes dark, and face pale.

Merlin glared at the potbellied bandit, wrinkling his nose in the hopes of showing how absolutely disgusted he was with the man. It made little difference, and Benjaminus didn't seem to even notice, but it relieved some of Merlin's anger.

Not all, though, as it flared up again when Benjaminus heaved himself up, and spat at the two of them. A wad of spittle hit Arthur's trousers, and Arthur glared, a similar look of disgust on his face.

Benjaminus laughed, and then his attention went to Merlin. "Who are you then? Not a knight."

Merlin bristled. "I'm his personal servant." He growled. A grin twisted the bandit's face.

"Rest assured, servant, your king will have the best accommodations we have to offer." His voice lilted with sarcasm.

He left them, swaggering back to the fire circle, leaving them alone again in the dark and chill. Arthur slumped back, now that the enemy eyes were off him, his borrowed strength leaving him.

He titled his head to Merlin, eyes half lidded.

"You shouldn't have said anything, Merlin. Antagonizing them is a bad idea."

Merlin half sighed, half shrugged; not able to regret it.

"What will happen now they know you're the king?" Merlin whispered, his instincts still to keep it a secret. Arthur shifted, groaning a bit as his injuries flared.

"They'll probably send for a ransom, which Agravaine will pay, and we'll be out of here in a few days." He sounded sugarily optimistic. Merlin furrowed his brow.

"And if something goes wrong?" Arthur shook his head.

"Nothing will go wrong."

Arthur's breathing was getting worse, Merlin realized, and he looked closer at the king in alarm. His face was a pasty pale color, worse than before, and he had two flushed spots, high on each cheek. Worry rushed over him, and he wished more than ever that his hands were free, or that they were out of the bandit's line of sight.

"Arthur? Are you feeling alright?" Merlin whispered, trying to get Arthur to respond. Arthur blinked at him, his head wobbling on his neck like a new born.

"Actually, Merlin...not really..."

Merlin's eyes widened in alarm as Arthur's body went mostly limp, head hanging, though he was still upright. Merlin reached forward with his two hands, still tied together, and gently maneuvered Arthur over to lie on his side, with his head in Merlin's lap. It had to be more comfortable than leaning on a wall, even if his hands were still bound.

From this position, Merlin could feel the fire raging under Arthur's forehead, his skin dry and hot to touch. He must have been sickening for a while now, and Merlin kicked himself for not noticing sooner.

He carded his bound fingers through the sweaty blond locks, and looked anxiously down Arthur's body at the wound on his thigh. That was the problem, Merlin knew. Infection had set in, during the hours they'd been captured; much longer and Arthur would have real problems.

Merlin whispered a healing spell he'd learned, but he was far from the wound, and rather stuck under Arthur's head and shoulders, and it didn't seem to do much anyway.

Merlin sighed, and brushed back Arthur's hair again. Helplessness filled him, but at the very least he could stay up, and watch over the king though the night.

The next day, Arthur was a little better, more aware, and able to give a hearty glare to his captures when they came with a small amount of water, but nothing else.

"We need food." Arthur demanded, face pale, but determined. He'd not sat up, mostly because his bound arms had not the strength nor leverage to push himself up, but he was more capable than most at sounding threatening while lying flat on his back.

The bandits ignored him, though Benjaminus from across the room gave him a scowl of epic proportions.

Merlin poured his share of water into Arthur's mouth before he could protest or even notice, though afterwards Arthur's glare rivaled Benjaminus'.

"Merlin..." Arthur growled. Merlin shook his head firmly.

"I'm fire. You have a fever." And indeed, his two bound hands on Arthur's forehead proved Merlin right, as he was still much too warm.

"'M fine..." Arthur murmured, and Merlin looked towards the ceiling in exasperation.

"Of course."

Their exchange was interrupted by Benjaminus approaching again. Arthur saw him, and struggled to sit up. With Merlin's help he was just able to, though he still leaned heavily on his servant.

"What do you want?" Merlin fired off, done with being here. Benjaminus laughed at him.

"Mouthy, isn't he?" He said to Arthur. Arthur did not reply. "We've reached a decision, your highness." He continued, his voice mocking. "My band and I, we're slave traders you see. A ransom, like you were hoping, would pay, but selling you and your little servant, now that would fetch a better price. A king is worth a mighty sum, and you, servant...well, you're quite pretty. I'm sure I can find something for you." He chuckled, his verdict given.

Arthur had been glaring, and at his words, he went white with anger and fear.

"I won't let you do this!" He lunged forwards, surprising both Merlin and Benjaminus, and managed to get a powerful doubled handed hit to the bandit's face, before he was restrained. Two large men pulled him back, and he slumped in between them, anger still radiating off him in waves.

Merlin was on his knees, watching anxiously as Arthur was grabbed and thrown to the ground in front of Benjaminus. The fat bandit wiped a bit of blood from his aching jaw, and growled at the king. It was the first time Merlin had seen him honestly angry, and he had to admit that it was unnerving.

"Get the cat." Benjaminus said to his men, and they grinned, licking their lips.

Two grabbed Arthur, and manhandled him over to a large boulder, over which they threw his arms and tied the rope between them to a sharp outcropping. The result was he was stretched upright, his arms over his head, facing the rock.

Merlin began to feel sick as they ripped his shirt from his back, leaving the pale skin clear. Benjaminus stepped forwards, now holding a device that made Merlin almost gag. A whip, but one tied with multiple strands, and embedded in them were bits which caught the light when he moved; glass and shined metal.

"No!" Merlin rushed forwards, but was grabbed and cuffed hard by another few men. By the time the spinning in his head cleared, Benjaminus had his arm raised, the whip swinging maliciously from his hand.

He brought it down with a sharp crack against Arthur's back, bloody welts immediately forming. Merlin flinched, and Arthur jerked, a muffled grunt coming from his clenched mouth.

"Stop it!" Merlin cried out, struggling to get free.

"Keep him quiet." Benjaminus said, arm up again. A large hand came down over Merlin's mouth, and he bit the rough flesh before it could clamp down completely. A curse came from above him, but Merlin hardly noticed, his struggles becoming desperate.

Arthur was hit again, the multiple lashes causing his back to split, blood dribbling down. Arthur could not contain a bit-back yell of pain.
Suddenly, the world was ringing in Merlin's ears, and his stopped struggling. He knew what he had to do. Arthur would see, but it was the only way. He closed his eyes, letting his magic fill his chest until it was begging to flow out.

Merlin opened his eyes, and could feel them flash gold as the ropes fell from his hands. He took in the men around him, two holding him, Benjaminus preparing for another strike to Arthur's back, and others gathered around to watch with gleeful grins. Power flowed through his body, and the men holding him flew. With twins gasps they fell back ten feet, hitting the ground with thuds. Benjaminus turned to see what the noise was, and saw a trembling manservant standing alone, and his men on the ground.

But, Benjaminus didn't realize that Merlin was not trembling with fear, but with power. His face became dark, and Benjaminus' grin fell.

"Astrice!" Merlin shouted, and threw out his hand, shoving a raw burst of power into Benjaminus' body. The bandit was tossed back like a rag doll, and fell limp to the ground nearly on the other side of the boulder.

The rest of the crowd was backing away, gasps of fear and surprised sounding throughout the cavern.

Arthur was struggling to turn around, the welts on his back stretching as he twisted against the ropes. Merlin ran forwards, and came abreast of him with a worried frown on his face.

"Are you alright?"

"Merlin, what's going on? What happened? Where's the bandit?"

Merlin did not answer, his fingers uniting Arthur's bindings, and his mind raced. He wondered if he could get out of this with his secret still intact, and his brain was already sorting through excuses and stories...

Merlin helped Arthur back off the boulder, supporting his weight the best he could, as Arthur grimaced through the massive amount of pain.

Then an extraordinarily brave bandit rushed forwards from the formerly cowed group. His weapon was raised, and he was screaming a battle cry. Arthur tensed, but they had no weapons and he was in no condition to fight. Without hesitation, Merlin raised his hand and shoved him back, eyes flashing.

The man hit the opposite wall with a crunch, and that was all the rest needed to leave them alone.

Arthur staggered, staring at Merlin in shock, trying to pull away as his mind processed what he'd just seen. Merlin held on, and dragged them both out of the cave, and away from the slavers.

Then Arthur's mouth began to work again.

"Merlin?" He gasped, jaw still open in shock. Betrayal was filling his eyes, and Merlin focused on the ground. He was still supporting the king, gripping his arm around Merlin's shoulders firmly, but Arthur was making it difficult, struggling weakly against him. Luckily because of pain and fever, and Merlin was able to hold him. Merlin dragged him a few yards into the woods, trying to get as far away as possible.

They reached a clearing when Merlin's shaking arms gave out, and he lowered Arthur to sit on the ground. He remained standing, if only because he felt if he sat he'd never get up again.

Arthur, eyes still impossibly wide, stared up at him. Anger, shock, betrayal, and denial, warring over his face.

He knew. He knew. Merlin's knees wobbled, and then gave out. Arthur scuttled back at his sudden fall, and Merlin's stomach convulsed at the hidden fear on his face, and he leaned over his knees, clutching his midsection. The secret he'd kept hidden his entire life, the one thing he'd wanted to tell Arthur for years was now out in the open.

And it was all so wrong.

"Merlin, that was...tell me that wasn't..." Arthur could not even say the word. "Merlin, say something. What happened back there?" Arthur's voice was confused, panicked, angry...so many emotions. Then concern. "Did they hurt you?"

Merlin shook his head, staring at the ground. "I'm sorry." He choked out. "It wasn't supposed to be this way..."

Anger rose in Arthur. "Damn it, Merlin! Tell me what happened! And don't you dare lie!"

Merlin stifled a laugh, or was it a sob, finally looking up to meet Arthur's eyes. "No more lies." He agreed. And then took a deep breath.

"It's a long story, and you're not well." For he wasn't. Arthur was panting from their flight, pale lipped, flushed with fever and shaking. He was probably in a large amount of pain, both from running on his wounded leg, and the wounds on his back. Merlin realized that the position he's held him in had put his arm straight across the worst of the welts, gripping his waist to hold him up. Arthur hadn't said a word. Merlin looked down and saw blood stains on his arm, causing his stomach to churn.

"Merlin." Arthur protested, and Merlin looked at him in anguish.

"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you so very badly."

"Tell me what? That you practice..." Arthur's weak voice stuttered out.

"Magic, Arthur."