Wow, 70th chapter. Someone teased me when they found out I've been writing fan-fiction. Rude. This chapter is basically to spite them. Enjoy.

Merlin was limping. Well more like trying not to fall while still trying to breathe without hurting his broken ribs. Until the lamebrained muttonheads figured out that Merlin was basically immune to torture and always came out alive, while the people who tortured him did not, Merlin would have to endure the abuse occasionally.

Either way, Merlin was rather good at hiding his pain by now. Once he'd broken his ankle, and people had believed that he twisted it. Usually he didn't even have to withstand the pain due to healing spells. When someone saw him get hurt, he couldn't just have trouble walking one day, and have no evidence of the injury the next.

It was rather late by now. Arthur wouldn't have the patience to wait for Merlin, so he was probably in bed by now. The prat would most likely be angered that Merlin wasn't there to help him. Sometimes the Clot pole had the skills of a five year old. Or the lack thereof. Which was ridiculous because he's a grown man. Merlin would have to suffer.

Getting home was proving to be a challenge. With his battered leg and self worth. Merlin was nearly there. Perserverence was what Merlin was missing at the moment. All he wanted was to collapse and sleep. Last time he did that, he was stiff for a week, and late for work which resulted in more chores. No thanks. Plus, he needed to get to his room if he wanted to heal himself. It would do no good to have someone glimpse his gold eyes.

The door was not all that heavy. With broken ribs it felt like it was the same weight as a horse. Creaking loudly, it came open. There was no worry of waking Gaius this late because he was off trying to find the cause of a mystery ailment that was plaguing a village at the edge of Camelot.

The moment the door was closed, Merlim threw off his bloody jacket with a struggle. Taking his shirt off was going to be hell.

More stairs. Wonderful. Merlin thought sarcastically. Once that struggle was over, he started battling his shirt not noticing another person in the room.

Once the shirt was thrown away, he grabbed the spare cloth he kept for cases such as this.

"Merlin."

The deep voice scared the living daylights out of Merlin.

There sitting on Merlin's bed was Arthur. He was facing Merlin's wall and sat tall attempting to be intimidating. He was. If he turned, he would see Merlin's bloodied upper body.

In this case Merlin was in far too much pain to put on a shirt. Even if he could, they were in the cupboard in front of Arthur. So unless Arthur didn't look at him, he would see.

"I decided to check the tavern because my incompetent servant wasn't there when I needed him. Gwaine told me you never come there unless it's to drag him home. So where do you go all the time Merlin?"

Dread filled the Warlock as Arthur turned.

"Merlin?"

His familiar blue eyes raked over the many bruises, scars, cuts and the obviously mangled ribs. There was shock written all over his face. Normally Arthur hid all his emotions under a facade of confidence, but at the moment all his emotions showed.

Slouching, Merlin was looking at the ground. The defeat was obvious when Arthur looked in his eyes. After a moment, Merlin decided he'd treat his wounds as he figured out what to do.

Earlier he'd put the cleaning cloths and water in a reachable spot for a situation just like this one. He'd thought up many scenarios of various ways he could get hurt and prepared for all of them. Most of those scenarios didn't include Arthur. In fact none of them did.

"Merlin, what happened?" Arthur sounded genuinely worried. Normally he acted like he didn't care. Not this time. Merlin was panicking inside. What was he going to do?

Beginning to treat his wounds standing up, he heard Arthur stand, perhaps he was leaving. Cleaning the wounds was not getting very far because it hurt to move. Merlin was getting stiffer by the minute.

Carefully Arthur pried Merlin's hand away from the cut, before gently bringing Merlin to the bed. He then retrieved the water and the cloth.

Merlin was confused. What was Arthur doing? The haze from being hit on the head was not helping. Bruising was sure to be on his face by now.

Gentle patting began on Merlin's back. By now exhaustion had taken over, and he could barely comprehend it.

"Merlin, who did this to you?" the voice a soft melody Merlin felt echo through his ears.

The kindness was surreal. Merlin hadn't let anyone take care of him for such a long time. Since he'd learned more medical practices, Merlin had began to treat his own wounds and injuries. This was the first time in years he'd been cared for and truly felt safe.

"Who did this to you Merlin?"

"Some random dude who wanted information about the castle," Merlin murmered tiredly. "They didn't get any information though. This has happened before."

At some point Merlin had lay down on his bed. He didn't remember when though. This calm was intoxicating. Like a drug, it lured him to a high. The high in this case was sleep.

Arthur continued to care for Merlin until all the injuries were adressed. As much as Arthur wanted to stay, it would be suspicious if he stayed in a servant's room overnight. So he trudged back to the castle. His thoughts swirling with questions. Who would do that to Merlin?

.......

Arthur hadn't expected Merlin to weak him up the next day. The idiot was acting like normal. As if nothing ever happened. Suddenly Arthur realized the reason Merlin always had a weird walk was because he was always injured. Did it really happen that often?

The stiff movements. Flinches that Arthur thought were out of habit, weren't. They were flinches of pain when doing certain movements. His sensitivity, was possibly from all the bruises he'd obtained along with other injuries.

In honesty, Merlin looked better today than usual. His smile was more... real.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked.

Merlin gave him a strange look. "What do you mean?"

Did Merlin not remember yesterday? Was he that exhausted?

"You have injuries all over your body Merlin. Why are you here? You should be in bed resting."

"H-how do you know about that?" Merlin was fiddling with his fingers. That was Merlin's nervous habit. He did it fairly often when he was nervous.

"Do you remember yesterday?" Merlin shook his head. "Well, I Waited for you in your room after checking the tavern. Gwaine said you never go to the bar. Then you came back nearly unconscious. I helped you out, and headed back here. Now I believe I asked you a question. Why are you here and not in bed?"

"Because a certain prat told me I'm fired if I make him late one more time," was Merlin's timid reply.

"Merlin, how often do people do this to you?"

Instead of replying, Merlin moved to start cleaning up laundry.

"Merlin?" Arthur demanded.

"Pretty often.' He whispered.

Arthur's heart dropped at those words. "Why didn't you tell me this? I could've tried to protect you!"

There was a snort emitted from the raven haired boy.

"It's not me that needs protecting Arthur." With that Merlin left.

When had Merlin become so cryptic? (Must be spending too much time with the dragon)

Despite Arthur's wishes, Merlin never went home. The only difference was Arthur gave him the easiest jobs possible because it seemed Merlin was going to work one way or another.

Arthur had become aware. Things would never go back to the way they once were. At least not for Arthur. He was going to keep an eye on Merlin whenever he could.

.