In memory of Kaiden.

The phone slipped from Gwen's delicate fingers, clattering to the floor. Her usual bright, glowing face paled, her eyes wide. Arthur and Morgana looked up from their conversation, smiles wilting. The dim light of the pub was enough to see the look of horror on Gwen's face.

Morgana crouched to snatch up the phone. "Gwen, what's the matter?" she asked, pressing the phone to her own ear.

Arthur placed a hand on Gwen's shoulder, turning her to him. He heard Morgana gasp beside him. "Gwen?"

Her eyes stared vacantly ahead. "Lancelot…" She drew in a shuddering breath, eyes slowly moving to meet Arthur's. "There's been an accident," she whispered.

Arthur slid his hand down to grasp hers. His gaze flickered to Morgana as she hurried through the crowd for the exit, still on the phone, her face tight.

Gwen's lip trembled. "He… He didn't make it," she said, so softly Arthur almost didn't hear her.

"What?" Arthur's jaw dropped.

Tears were now running down Gwen's cheeks, her gaze going vacant as she stared past Arthur's shoulder. "He… died. In the ambulance." She started sobbing in earnest, Arthur pulling her into an embrace as her knees buckled.

Lancelot had been coming to meet up with them. But first he'd gone to pick up…

Arthur's whole body went numb as Morgana suddenly reappeared at their side, panic in her eyes.

"Where's Merlin?" gasped Arthur.

…..

Arthur sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair, listening to the steady blip of the heart rate monitor pinched onto Merlin's finger. He clutched the unconscious boy's hand gently in his, running is thumb softly over the back.

The dark haired boy lay still in the hospital bed, snuggly tucked under a gray blanket. Arthur focused on the steady rise and fall of his thin chest, instead of the heavy cast on his right hand or the gash across his forehead, held together by butterfly bandages. Little cuts and dark bruises littered the skin of his arms, bared by the blue checkered gown. Arthur drew in a deep breath, dropping his head to rest against the bed.

The room door opened with a quiet click, the sound of heels crossing the floor behind him. Arthur could tell from the perfume it was Morgana. She stopped beside his chair, resting a hand on his shoulder. "How's he doing?"

Arthur raised his head, running his free hand over his face. "He has a concussion from the blow to his head. They think he hit the dashboard; the air bag never went off. A couple cracked ribs, broken wrist, but he's going to be okay." He took another deep breath. "How's Gwen?"

Morgana walked around his chair to gently run her fingers through Merlin's hair. "She's down in the morgue, saying goodbye. I'm going to drive her home, stay with her for the night."

Arthur furiously blinked back the tears threatening to spill. "I really should go down and see…"

Morgana continued to card her fingers through Merlin's dark curls. "No, you need to be here with Merlin. Gwen understands."

Arthur cleared his throat, one tear breaking free. "An officer came in. He, uh… He explained what happened."

His sister glanced up at him with misty green eyes and nodded. "Another officer spoke with Gwen and I."

Arthur clutched Merlin's hand a little tighter. "Lancelot saved his life," he croaked, voice hoarse with emotion. "He… He pulled Merlin from the wreck. If it wasn't for him, I'd have lost my…" He drew a shuddering breath, tears now running unchecked down his face. "It would've been me down there, not Gwen."

"The officer told Gwen Lancelot was a hero. He rescued the child from the other vehicle too, but…"

Arthur nodded, dropping his gaze. Lancelot had returned to free the other driver as well, but the burning engine had ignited the leaking gasoline from the other vehicle. Neither one survived.

"I should return to Gwen," said Morgana, trailing the back of her hand softly across Merlin's cheek. "I'm sure we will be back in the morning. Gwen will want to see Merlin."

Arthur nodded, sniffing. "Tell Gwen… I'm sorry for her loss. Truly."

Morgana nodded as well, pressing a quick kiss to Arthur's cheek. "Look after him."

"I will."

Arthur returned to his vigil, his eyes never wavering from Merlin's face. Nurses came and went, the doctor stopped by on his rounds, but Arthur paid them no attention. His eyes were just beginning to grow heavy with exhaustion when he felt a twitch in his hand. His gaze flickered from the fingers stretching in his grasp, to the clock on the opposite wall (4:03 AM), and up to the injured boy's face. Blue eyes, cloudy with remnants of pain medication, fluttered open.

"Merlin," breathed Arthur, standing and leaning over him.

At first Merlin squinted at the unfamiliar surroundings, but as his vision focused on Arthur, his expression smoothed out in relief. He lifted his hands to sign and his brow furrowed at the sight of the cast. He sat up suddenly and what little color was in his porcelain fair cheeks vanished.

Arthur quickly, but gently, pushed him back down on the pillow. "Careful," he pleaded. "You have a concussion; you need to take it easy."

Merlin took a few deep breaths with his eyes tightly closed. What happened? he mouthed.

Arthur took a deep breath of his own. "You were in an accident… A car accident."

Merlin's eyes drifted back open as he slowly lifted his left hand and gingerly brushed his fingers across his forehead. Those deep blue eyes rose to Arthur with concern. Lancelot?

Arthur couldn't keep his gaze, instead focusing on a loose thread of the gray blanket. "You really should rest, Merlin, we can talk later."

Merlin yanked on Arthur's hand, forcing him to look up. The concern had turned into fear and tears were already glistening in the corner of Merlin's eyes. Lancelot? he mouthed again.

"He, uh…" Arthur had to take another deep breath to stop his lower lip from trembling. "I'm sorry, Merlin."

Fear flashed into shock, which flickered into disbelief, which then melted into complete anguish. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he suddenly let out a keening groan as sobs wracked his body.

Arthur was stunned, motionless, for a second. This was one of only a few occasions he'd ever heard Merlin make a noise, save for in his sleep. But as Merlin began to shake his head furiously, curling over onto his side, Arthur climbed onto the bed and pulled him into his arms. Merlin clutched at Arthur's shirt with his good hand and sobbed into his chest.

If any words were right for this occasion, Arthur didn't know them, so he simply held his boyfriend as silent tears of his own slid down his face.

…..

When Morgana and Gwen arrived five hours later, Arthur still held Merlin in his arms. The raven haired boy had cried himself to sleep, but Arthur refused to let him ago, not even as the nurses and doctor returned to check on him.

Morgana strode forward, pressing a kiss to the top of Merlin's head and brushing back Arthur's bangs. "How is he?"

"He woke earlier," said Arthur, his voice hoarse and cracked from lack of sleep and emotion. His gaze drifted to Gwen, still standing just inside the doorway. Her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy from crying. She was gazing at Merlin with a mixture of relief and absolute heartbreak. "He asked about Lancelot… I had to tell him."

Gwen's mouth thinned as she pressed her lips together. She slowly walked over, reaching out a shaky hand and gently grasping Merlin's shoulder. She instantly burst into tears. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed, dropping down into Arthur's vacated chair.

Morgana perched on the thin, metal armrest and smoothed Gwen's hair as the girl sobbed into her hands. Arthur only held Merlin even closer, fiercely shoving away a vision of himself in that chair, sobbing as Gwen held a living, breathing Lancelot.

…..

Merlin had been cleared to go home later that day. He'd gone straight to their bedroom and cried himself to sleep. Arthur had aimlessly puttered around the house, tidying up, and then staring vacantly at the tv on silent when there was nothing left to clean. He'd fallen asleep on the couch.

The next morning, Merlin wouldn't get out of bed. Arthur called in to both their jobs, explaining about the accident and Merlin's injuries, and that they needed a few days to get back on their feet. Merlin's boss was understanding, told him Merlin could have as much time as he needed. Arthur's boss not been so kind and Arthur had had to use his vacation time.

Arthur spent the rest of the day trying to get Merlin out of bed. Merlin simply stared blankly at the wall, crying, only getting up a couple times to use the bathroom. He wouldn't eat anything Arthur prepared, wouldn't even take the pain medicine the doctor had sent with them. He finally drifted off to sleep early in the evening, but Arthur lay awake by his side, all night.

The next day was much the same. And the day after that. Arthur was growing dangerously close to frustrated by that afternoon. Morgana called to check on them. She was helping Gwen go through Lancelot things. Gwen wanted to just get rid of it all, said she didn't want to look at any of it, but Morgana had talked her into going through and picking out things to keep. Arthur knew Gwen would be grateful to Morgana for it after time; she'd never forgive herself if she'd thrown it all out in grief.

Arthur told Morgana that he couldn't get Merlin out of bed. She told him to give Merlin time.

"He just lost his best friend," said Morgana soothingly.

"Gwen lost her boyfriend, even she isn't lying in bed all day."

"Everyone grieves in different ways, Arthur. Merlin was also in the accident. He's hurt and he's heartbroken."

Arthur sighed. "I'm just worried about him," he said, drawing his hand wearily across his face.

"I know. Just be there for him. He's going to need you."

"I'm trying. Nothing is working."

"Keep trying. That's what's important."

Arthur nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "I will."

"And take care of yourself too, Arthur. You won't do Merlin any good if you're too exhausted to help him."

A small smile ghosted Arthur's lips. "I will," he promised again. "What did we all ever do to deserve you?" he asked his half-sister.

He could picture the smirk on her face. "I'll call you again later. Bye."

Arthur ended the call, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. He went out the kitchen and made a couple sandwiches for supper. He ended up eating his alone at the table, unsuccessful in yet another attempt to draw Merlin out of his grief. Arthur did sleep that night, holding Merlin tightly as he whimpered and cried in his sleep.

The next day, despite Morgana's words, the stress was beginning to wear Arthur thin. As Merlin refused both breakfast and lunch again, Arthur couldn't keep his poise any longer.

"Please, Merlin," he pleaded, holding out the bowl of pasta. "Please you need to eat something."

Merlin barely glanced at it, shaking his head.

"Please, Merlin, just a few bites. You must eat something."

Merlin pulled the blankets over his head.

"Merlin, please. Lancelot would want you to take care of yourself."

No response.

"Please, Merlin. If you won't do it for me, do it for Lancelot."

Merlin threw of the blankets, sat up, grabbed the bowl, and hurled it at the wall. Sauce streaked across the paint as pasta rained down on the carpet.

"Merlin!" cried Arthur, stunned. "What the hell?"

Tears streamed down Merlin's face as he mouthed something repeatedly, eyes squeezed closed.

Arthur tore his gaze from the tomato sauce running down the wall and dropped down on his knees beside the bed, trying to take Merlin's hands, but he yanked them away. "Please, Merlin. What can I do? Help me help you. I don't know what to do."

Merlin's eyes flashed open, emotion raging in them as he angrily mouthed the words again.

Arthur floundered, unable to interpret the sentence. "I-I can't… I don't. Here." He fumbled with the drawer in the nightstand, digging to the bottom for Merlin's old notepad and a pen.

Merlin stared at it, holding up his casted hand pointedly.

"You're left will do," assured Arthur. "Just, please, talk to me."

Merlin balanced the pad in his lap and in shaky, messy letters hastily wrote: Should've been me.

Arthur gaped at him. "What? Merlin, no-"

Merlin started to write furiously again. Remember everything. The whole crash.

Arthur swallowed.

Lancelot was fine. Saved me. Died for me. Should've been me.

Wish it'd been me.

Merlin let the pen tumbled from his grasp as he finished the last sentence. Arthur's jaw dropped and his heart plummeted like the pen. "You don't mean that?"

Merlin pointed to the last sentence again, before pushing the notepad off his lap and drawing his knees up to his chest. Arthur climbed up on the bed beside him and pulled him into his arms. "No, Merlin, no. Please don't ever say that. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

Merlin's shoulders shook with silent sobs.

"I wish Lancelot were still here, I wish it with all my heart, and I can't even imagine what Gwen is going through, but I will be grateful to Lancelot every day of my life that he saved you. That I still have you here, with me."

Merlin clawed at the fabric of his shirt, over his heart, and pressed his face into Arthur's shoulder as his sobs grew heavier.

"I know," said Arthur, untangling Merlin's fingers from the fabric and wrapping his hand in his. "I know. My heart hurts too. But we'll get through this. Together. I promise." He rested his cheek atop Merlin's head. "We'll get through this."

…..

The next morning, Arthur was frying eggs when he heard soft footsteps pad into the kitchen behind him. He turned to see Merlin, his eyes still rimmed red, slowly pull out a chair and sit at the table. Arthur loaded two plates with toast and fresh, sliced fruit and his own with eggs and joined Merlin at the table.

I began writing this shortly after I posted the last story. But I started having health problems and spent a couple months having lots of tests done and basically being miserable and exhausted all the time. And then, just when I got some answers and was beginning to feel a bit better...

My best friend passed away in December.

I struggled greatly in the next several weeks. I hadn't known one's heart could hurt that much and still go on living. I decided the other day, the best analogy I could come up with is that grief feels like someone put your heart through a paper shredded and then left you to match up the pieces and tape them back togehter. I did a lot of laying around, crying, staring blankly off into space. But I've slowly begun to adapt to life without him here. I've begun to return to activities I love. And tonight when I decided to start writing again, I found this. In all that had happened, I'd completely forgotten I'd started this. I almost deleted it, it hit too close to home. But, I thought writing it might be a bit therapeutic.

(I do still hope/plan to write more of this series, including the one that explains the noises Merlin makes. If people are still interested, let me know. There may not be any more smutty ones, that plot bunny seems to have escaped the hutch. But who knows, maybe it'll return.)