The Lost King: A Warlock in San Antonio Part 4

by Katerina Riley

It's finally happened. The king of myths, from a time of legend and magic, has returned. If only Merlin would pick up his fucking phone. / Arthur's return. Mutual Pining. Eventual Merthur. Teaching Arthur how to modern.

The Lost King

Right foot. Left foot. Right foot.

"Sir?"

Each step heavier than the last.

"Are you alright?"

Left foot. Right foot. Left foot.

"Can you hear me?"

Each breath harder than the last.

"Sir? Sir!"

Cold. So cold.

"I need a stretcher!"

Everything faded to black.

0~xXx~0

"Play it again," TC demanded, his phone positioned to record.

The security officer rolled his eyes, but pressed play once more.

The area right outside the ER's entrance burst into view. People bustled about and it seemed to be a normal, crazy day shift at the ER. Then the footage glitched, the color strangely similar to a burning flame. It lasted about three seconds, but when the camera turned back on, nothing seemed to be amiss. Except for the image of a naked, red figure disappearing into the building.

"Now play the other camera."

The officer pressed a few buttons and the ER's indoor entrance filled the screen. After a few seconds, the figure appeared, just as red and bare as the other times.

"What are you looking for?" Drew asked. "What's so special about this naked, bloody, blonde man? I swear you've watched this a million times by now."

TC didn't answer. He stared at the screen, keeping his eyes on the upper corner, where the man appeared from.

"Again," he said, before the man collapsed again. He readied his phone to record once more. "When I tell you, press play."

"Same time?" the security officer asked.

"Yeah."

For the seventeenth time, the video played, starting from exactly seven seconds before the man stumbled into the ER, completely naked and covered in blood.

The footage kept playing, as the man took labored, drunken steps, ignoring the day shift nurse's questions before finally collapsing by the reception desk. A stretcher was brought in and the man was lifted up and ushered out of view.

"Well? Are you gonna answer me?" Drew asked, hands splayed in frustration.

"Later," TC mumbled, this thumbs quickly tapping against his phone's screen. The sound of a sent text message filled the air. "Room 513, right?"

"Yeah, but—TC, wait!"

Drew hurriedly rushed out the room. Running, he managed to slide into the elevator just in time.

"You mind telling me what's going on?"

"A naked man covered in his own blood wondered into the ER earlier today, collapsed, hasn't woken up, and doesn't have any sort of identification on him."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be an ass, TC. You know what I meant."

Instead of answering, TC took his phone out and pressed it to his ear. The faint sound of a ring could be heard.

"Dammit, Merls, pick up your phone," he gritted out, not bothering to leave anymore explanation in the voicemail before shoving the device back into his pockets. Of all the weeks to go on holiday, this was the worst. As soon as the doors, opened, he booked it for the room, walking as fast as he could without actually running.

"Merls? Who's Merls? New girlfriend?" Drew asked, easily keeping pace. "Is she supposed to know who this dude is?

"I'm not seeing anybody right now," he mumbled. "509…510…"

"So, care to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Right then, a pager went off. It was Drew's.

Smirking, TC said, "Well, it seems to me, you're needed downstairs."

"For now." He frowned, crossing his arms. "But don't think you're off the hook yet. When I'm almost run over by my own friend on his own motorcycle, just to see some footage of some naked dude, who wasn't even that cute, by the way, I demand answers."

He said it somewhat jokingly, but TC knew the serious intent behind his teasing smirk. Except this wasn't something that could easily be shared with others.

"I…" he sighed. "I don't know if I can give you those answers. I'm sorry, Drew."

Drew frowned. "TC, you know you can talk to me, man. You're one of my best friends."

His pager went off again.

"Shit," he muttered. "Don't think you're off the hook. Hey, hold that elevator!"

And with that, the surgeon ran off, leaving TC with an empty, aching sort of feeling. How could he possibly explain what was going on? If it even was what he thought was going on…

No, it was.

He knew it was.

There could be no other possible explanations, and there was no way he could share that with anyone. Not yet, anyway…and not truthfully.

Quietly, trying to still his racing thoughts, he entered the room. It was dark, the curtains drawn tight, and all around the slumbering man, machines beeped. He'd been washed, stitched up, and dressed, but there was no question this was the man from the footage.

With the door shut behind him, it was nearly impossible to move the few feet over to where the man was lying. Each step felt like molasses. Time seemed to slow down around him, and even his racing thoughts weren't moving quiet as fast. He was afraid to breathe too loudly, as if his breath would blow the illusion away.

Finally, he made it to the bedside. The man's eyes were closed and his face was slack, but his nose…his jaw…even his damned ears… It had to be. It had to be him.

When TC touched the man's hand, his eyes immediately opened. Blue.

There was no more doubt as to who this was.

"Is it really you?" he whispered, sitting down. "Arthur?"

The man didn't respond.

"Arthur?" he tried again. Gently, he squeezed his hand. "It's me. It's Gwaine."

At the sound of his old name, the man's eyes widened. His mouth parted slightly, but no words sounded past his lips.

"But, um, I'm called TC now." He watched Arthur closely. "I've been…reincarnated. It's a bit complicated. Are you… Are you reincarnated? Or are…are you…real?"

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed, but remained silent. TC couldn't tell if Arthur was confused as to what he'd said or if Arthur hadn't understood what he was implying—because, honestly, he himself had no idea what to think when Merlin had told him he was a reincarnation of a previously living human being, and he'd had the memories to prove it to himself.

Before he could blather on anymore, his pager buzzed.

"Dammit," he cursed, standing up. Silencing it, he looked back at Arthur. "I have to go. But I'll be back!" he promised quickly when a panicked look spread across his face. "I have to work. I'll just be downstairs, okay? If you need anything, anything at all, tell the nurses. They're here to help you, okay? And you can ask for me, TC. Remember, it's not Gwaine here. I'm TC."

He reached for Arthur's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. He tried to say, "It'll be okay" or "I'm glad you're alive," but he couldn't quite get the words out. So, he just smiled. He walked out the room slowly, not wanting to leave, but as soon as the door shut, as soon as there was a barrier between him and his former king, something in his brain switched.

He had a fucking job to do. People to save. Arthur was stable. TC can't just spend all night with him! He's not a knight anymore—and, technically, TC never was—but he was a warrior and a healer and that's exactly what he needs to be in the ER tonight. Every night.

Running down the hall, he made a mental note to try Merlin again at his break, whenever that may be.

There was not one word from the man upstairs the entire night.

x~xXx~x

"Shift's over in a few minutes," Drew mused, flipping over some pages on his clipboard.

TC hummed his agreement, flipping his own papers. The only part of his job he truly hated. Paperwork.

"Going back upstairs?"

"Going—?" He scowled. "What are you getting at?"

Drew shrugged, handing the clipboard to a nurse. "I mean that your friend is still up there and I'm still owed an explanation."

"I told you—"

"You almost ran me over with your bike. I'm going to need better than you literally repeating facts."

He groaned. "He's… He's an old friend. Very old. We lost contact for…several years and…well, I guess he's back in my life now."

Drew frowned. "Okay, I guess that makes some sense. Except why haven't you identified him? Called his family?"

"Because…" Fuck, fuck, fuck, think TC think "…because he's…he's in witness protection."

"Witness protection?" Drew repeated, that damn eyebrow raised in unbelief. "And how exactly would you know that."

He cleared his throat. "Um. Classified. Can't tell you."

"But you could tell that Merls girl? You called her right after you…" He trailed off, realization dawning on him. With a raised finger, he accused, "You sent those videos to her too, didn't you?"

TC might have signed his name a bit harder than usual on his paperwork.

"Done," he muttered, handing off his clipboard to the nurse. He left the desk, heading towards the stairs. Of course, Drew followed.

"So, you can tell a chick, but you can't tell me?"

Opening the door, TC took a deep breath. It did nothing to calm him. "Okay, firstly, Merls is not a girl, he's a dude. Another old friend. And second, I told him because…" shit what was he going to say now? why does this always happen to him "…he's my friend's…agent."

He could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead. What the fuck was he saying?

"Agent?" Drew repeated, his voice now dripping with disbelief with a hint of annoyance.

"Yes. And before you ask. Classified. Confidential. Don't know. Yes. No. Maybe. Sorry, can't tell you."

That, at least, earned him a chuckle.

"Covering all your bases, huh?"

TC grinned. "I already answered that."

Drew laughed, though it was cut short by the ring of a phone.

Quickly, TC fumbled for his, checking, hoping, that it was—

"Hey, Rick, what's going on?"

Dammit. He scrubbed at his face. He really, really wanted to sleep, but, well, his king was waiting.

"Yeah, I'll be home soon. Love you too. Bye."

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Drew stared at TC, effectively immobilizing him for a solid two minutes. Finally, he rolled his eyes.

"Witness protection, my ass. But whatever, TC. I'll take it for now. Give me something better next shift, all right?" With a wink, he turned and walked back down the stairs.

"Next shift," TC muttered to an empty stairwell. "Right, that's…tonight…"

Hopefully, Merlin would be back and let his magic take care of everything. Once upon a time, Jordan knew. But it wasn't meant to be. TC wasn't about to go through that with another friend. And now that Arthur was back, something has to be coming. The less his friends know, the better; they were safer this way.

With another sigh, he turned and walked back up the stairs. It was quiet, away from the ER. Usually, it unnerved him, being so use to the chaos and shouting, but right now, he actually enjoyed the peace and—what the hell?

"What's going on?" he demanded, glaring at the nurses holding down Arthur's struggling body.

"Sir," a nurse started, but she never got the chance to finish.

"Gwaine!" Arthur shouted, his voice lilted with a strange accent. "Gwaine—" and then he proceeded to say a string of words that TC had never heard in his life, but somehow, he knew Arthur was saying, "Help me!"

"We can't get him to calm down," a nurse, a different one, explained. TC knew this one; she's helped out a few times in the ER. "Why is he calling you, 'Gwaine'?"

"No idea," he lied, gently shoving his way towards Arthur. "Let him go."

All the nurses looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What the hell, are you nuts?" one of them asked.

Another replied, "This dude's absolutely crazy!"

Again, Arthur shouted at TC. He even managed to free one of his arms, but instead of using it to his advantage, Arthur reached out for him. He didn't punch or twist or pinch. He reached out.

Fuck, he's really scared, TC realized, his heart clenching. Arthur woke up in a strange land with a strange language and he was terrified.

His hand was restrained in a matter of moments. TC didn't even realize he'd taken a step forward, his own arm raised, until the closest nurse accidentally elbowed him.

"Dude, if you're not going to help, get out of our way," the nurse hissed.

"Just let him go," he repeated, his voice breaking. Even though he wasn't exactly Gwaine, watching Arthur, his king, former be damned, absolutely terrified and reaching out like a child, broke his damn heart. "Fuck, Merlin, where are you?" he muttered, reaching into his pocket to check his phone. Still nothing.

Arthur screeched, and TC looked up in time to watch his arm being penetrated by a needle.

Sedative, his brain supplied. Obviously. Still, some part of him, a very Gwaine-part of him, wondered if it was poison. He quickly squelched that thought before he did anything stupid. Like punch out a nurse.

"There. that. should. do it," the nurse breathed out, chest heaving. "Damn, he's strong."

"Do you know him, TC?" the nurse who's sometimes down in the ER asked.

He should find out her name.

"Um. Yeah. Kind of. It's a long story."

She nodded, easily accepting his answer. Perhaps she thought Arthur was a previous patient. "Okay, come on, guys. Let's leave them to some privacy."

They all left grumbling and rubbing their shoulders. Thankfully, none asked if TC knew what language Arthur had been speaking in.

"Hey," he said softly, pulling up the chair that had been tossed aside in the struggle.

"Gwaine," Arthur slurred, but didn't say anything else. Maybe it was a question. Maybe a plea. It didn't really matter because in a matter of seconds, his eyes were closed and his chest rose steadily.

"Well, that was quick…" Leaning back in the chair, TC contemplated whether he should go home and sleep or not. On one hand, he really wanted to sleep; it had been a long shift. But on the other, the idea of leaving Arthur right now was impossible to imagine.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated.

He nearly dropped it, trying to get it out of his pocket so quickly.

Breathlessly, he greeted, "Hello?"

"TC! You're never going to believe this!" Merlin shouted. "A man, a blonde man, was caught walking out of the lake!"

"Really? That's—"

"A blonde, bloody man walked out of the lake. But he disappeared!"

"Merlin—"

"People are saying there one moment, gone the next! Poof! Like magic people have been saying. Magic! TC, do you know what this means?"

Boy, does he ever. TC tried again: "Merlin, I have—"

"Arthur's alive! He's alive, he has to be! It has to have been him! But I've no idea where he went! Where could he have gone to. And why the bloody hell did he even disappear? It doesn't make any sense! Where—"

"Dammit, Merlin, listen to me!"

A pause. "TC, did you hear a word I said? Arthur's back!"

"Yes, I know." He rubbed his eyes. "Didn't you look at my text message?"

"Arthur's back and you want me to look at a text you sent me?"

TC could hear the frown, not to mention the irritation, in Merlin's voice.

"Dammit, Merlin, just do it. Trust me, you want to check the videos I sent you."

Another pause, longer this time. TC took the moment to contemplate what kind of breakfast he wanted—definitely pancakes with strawberry syrup. Maybe some whipped cream too, he fucking deserved it. And eggs. Scrambled. Hash browns. Bacon and sausage. Maybe even a ham steak. Or was that too much?

"Where are you, I'm coming over right now, holy fuck, TC, why did you keep this from me, I need—"

"Whoa, slow down there." He rubbed his face again, ignoring his growling stomach. "Arthur's not going anywhere right now; he's sedated. So, don't go crazy and apparat here and lose your elbow."

"I think I'm much better at apparating than Ron Weasley, a fictional character, is. And I told you I don't call it that, I call it—did you say he's sedated?"

"Long story. Just gather your things, magic yourself to that café I like, and please bring me breakfast."

Merlin's eyeroll could be felt through the phone. "I haven't been a servant in centuries, TC, and I was never yours."

"Which is why I'm asking my friend who loves me dearly to please get me some food because that's what friends do for each other in this modern day."

A soft laugh. "…Yeah, I can do that. Your usual?"

"Please."

"Okay." But Merlin didn't hang up just yet. "…How…um, how is he?"

TC licked his lips. "He's…okay. Technically. But I think being here is too much for him. He needs to be away from all this—" he looked around the hospital room "—technology."

"Right… I'll be there in twenty."

Nineteen minutes and fourteen second later, Merlin walked through the door. He even had a coffee, bless him.

"He's not awake yet," TC said, gently taking his breakfast our of Merlin's hands. "But I'll leave you two alone for a moment, okay?"

Merlin hummed, but it didn't seem like he'd actually heard a word TC said. Slowly, he walked to Arthur's side. The image flickered, but TC couldn't tell if it was his memories or something Merlin was actually doing. One moment, he saw Merlin wearing his blue jeans and red sweater, with his hair wild and beard stubbled. He stood over Arthur, clad in a green hospital gown, who was surrounded by cream-colored hospital sheets and sterile-white hospital walls. But the next moment, Merlin stood in brown pants with a blue shirt and red neckerchief while Arthur wore his Camelot armor, surrounded by green trees.

Quickly, TC walked out the door, knowing that staying any longer would be a breach of privacy, regardless if what he saw was in his head or Merlin's magic.

0~xXx~0

A holiday had been a great idea. A wonderful idea. Something he'd desperately, desperately needed. A break from his mundane problems, from his magic problems, from his everything problems. And with the week-long school break was the perfect time to do so.

So why the hell did he feel so awful?

Merlin sighed, twisting onto his stomach to look out at the waves. Greece was so beautiful, the waters so blue, but it didn't bring him any peace. Not even the cold drink he'd spelled to be stronger than usual settled well in his stomach. He had hoped the sun on his back could soak up his worries, like the fact that his 'To Grade' stack was piling up and the search for him was as fruitless as ever.

"Maybe I'll go back… Just to see it…" he muttered to himself.

It had been centuries since he'd gone to the lake. He'd nearly lost him mind there. Several times. Watching the still waters, day after day, night after night, nearly drowning himself at the slightest ripple. Ducks, wind…it didn't matter what he saw cause the waters to move; whenever it did, he'd dive in. It didn't help that he looked like an old man at the time, causing people to panic at the sight of him jumping into the waters. Leaving had been his only salvation.

"Just for one day. Maybe two," he said. "No more than two. No more."

The next day, he'd packed and flew back to the UK, back to where Albion once stood.

Almost no one was ever by the lake nowadays. Hidden in the forest, with barely a remnant of an old village that used to take up residence by its waters, the lake was almost undetectable. For years, he'd been the only human in that part of the woods, but then people started mulling around, building houses and small markets. For about a century, the village lasted, but the children kept leaving as they aged, and no village could ever hope to survive with so few people. On the 500th anniversary of Gwen's death, Merlin walked away from the lake, from the nearly-undetectable ruins of the village.

Every few hundred years, he'd visit, but other than a rare backpacker or lost child, no one was ever there. Even with an occasional straggler, the lake was quiet and serene, as if people could feel the old magic that still existed in the soil, the flowers, the water. Greece had been lovely, but nothing compared to feeling the hum of magic beneath his feet and the freedom of being away from the modern world.

Except the closer Merlin walked to the lake, the more voices he heard. Soon, he was able to see the crowd of people swarming, taking photos, filming news reports, drowning out the hum of magic. Shoving through the crowd, he heard bits and pieces.

—covered in blood!

Blonde man just—

—completely naked.

Yeah, saw it with my own—

—fucking lake—

Stumbling out of the crowd, he fell to his knees and into the water. It felt different this time. Empty.

Vacant.

He couldn't breathe. Not even bothering to stand, he fumbled for his phone and pulled up YouTube. There it was. Front page. The video.

As he watched a man emerge from the lake, the waters not washing off the blood that dripped from his skin, he felt it. The hum of magic beneath his feet surged upwards, stronger than it had been in centuries, and for the first time in a long time, the world felt right.

He took a moment to bask in the feeling, to let it wash all over him, to warm him all the way to his core.

Quickly, he searched through his phone's contacts and began running through the crowd. He had to find someplace to be alone.

"TC! You're never going to believe this!" he shouted, unable to keep from grinning. "A man, a blonde man, was caught walking out of the lake!"

"Really? That's—"

"A blonde, bloody man walked out of the lake. But he disappeared!"

Could it have been magic? A tree blocked the film's sight for barely a second, but the man had disappeared. Certainly not a coincidence. Right? (Though it would be just his damned luck that the man was actually an attempted murder victim who got away.)

"Merlin—"

No, no, he's going to be bloody optimistic. As bloody as that man was—and he was Arthur, he had to be Arthur. The magic in the ground, in the air, told him it was Arthur.

"People are saying there one moment, gone the next! Poof! Like magic people have been saying. Magic! TC, do you know what this means?"

"Merlin, I have—"

Oh, my gods. It was Arthur. That bloody, blonde, naked man was Arthur.

"Arthur's alive! He's alive He has to be! It has to have been him! But I've no idea where he went! Where could he have gone to. And why the bloody hell did he even disappear? It doesn't make any sense! Where—"

"Dammit, Merlin, listen to me!"

Merlin blinked, his brain finally telling him that TC had been trying to talk to him. What the hell could be more important than this?

"TC, did you hear a word I said? Arthur's back!"

"Yes, I know. Didn't you look at my text message?"

Text message? Text message!? Merlin just announced that Arthur, Arthur Pendragon the King of Camelot has returned, and TC's wants him to respond to a stupid new teenage meme?!

"Arthur's back and you want me to look at a text you sent me?" he deadpanned.

"Dammit, Merlin, just do it. Trust me, you want to check the videos I sent you."

Merlin took the phone away from his ear, looking up at the sky in an effort not to scream. Fine. Fine. He'll check his stupid messages. He'll laugh at the stupid teenage memes. He'll—

That bright light was not a glitch. His breath hitched as he watched a man limp heavily into the screen. No clothes. Blonde hair. Blood. It only lasted a few seconds. The next video was just as short, but there was no denying it.

Arthur walked out of the lake and somehow walked into San Antonio's hospital in Texas.

Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, his hand was already back at his ear and his mouth was moving a mile a minute.

"Where are you, I'm coming over right now, holy fuck, TC, why did you keep this from me, I need —"

"Whoa, slow down there," TC interrupted. "Arthur's not going anywhere right now; he's sedated. So, don't go crazy and apparat here and lose your elbow."

Not this again, he thought, rolling his eyes. "I think I'm much better at apparating than Ron Weasley, a fictional character, is. And I told you I don't call it that, I call it—" the word TC used finally clicked "—did you say he's sedated?"

"Long story. Just gather your things, magic yourself to that café I like, and please bring me breakfast."

Once again, Merlin had to hold the phone away from his ear and look back up into the sky. His eyes rolled on their own accord, and they rolled hard. "I haven't been a servant in centuries, TC, and I was never yours."

"Which is why I'm asking my friend who loves me dearly to please get me some food because that's what friends do for each other in this modern day."

Friend. Merlin remembered them horseback riding, drinking mead, jumping off buildings… He remembered them getting coffee, riding motorcycles, playing video games… He laughed softly. Like TC said, Arthur's not going anywhere. Though whoever sedated him will suddenly come down with a case of terribly awful diarrhea for the next few months.

"…Yeah, I can do that. Your usual?"

"Please." TC sounded desperate.

"Okay." But Merlin didn't hang up just yet. "…How…um, how is he?"

"He's…okay. Technically." (Merlin really wanted to know why Arthur had to be sedated of all things.) "But I think being here is too much for him. He needs to be away from all this…technology."

Technology. Shit. That had to be overwhelming. And then waking up surrounded by things that beeped and people you didn't know… Merlin began to understand why Arthur might've been sedated. Not that he liked it any less.

"Right… I'll be there in twenty."

While it was nice to use planes and trains and other manmade traveling devices, the fastest way was magic. Only nineteen minutes and fourteen seconds had passed. He made to sure to appear just outside of the surveillance camera's lens (he briefly wondered if there was a bright red-orange flash that would appear for him, just as it did for Arthur) and then he raced towards the room, ignoring the bustling people and merely allowing his magic to feel for TC, for—

He faltered. There was TC, sitting in a chair, looking haggard. And then there, on the bed in front of him, was him.

It was one thing to see YouTube clips. To hear TC say it on the phone. To know in your heart, in your magic.

But to see him. To see Arthur in the flesh. In real life.

Merlin took a shaky breath. He was vaguely aware of TC talking, taking the bag out of his hands. He said something about him not being awake. It didn't really matter. Merlin took a step forward. And another. Another. Slowly.

Arthur seemed to change in front of him. One moment he laid there in green hospital gown under cream hospital sheets surrounded by white hospital walls, but in the next moment, he wore his Camelot armor surrounded by green trees. The images would shift fluidly. When he reached out, sometimes his arm was covered in his favorite red jumper. Others, it was clad in blue, the fabric identical to the ones he used to wear all those years ago.

Then his hand brushed against Arthur's.

He could feel his skin. Soft. Real. Warm.

"Oh gods," he said. "You're here. You're…here."

The tears were hot against his cheeks. His eyes burned, but he refused to close them.

Grasping Arthur's hand more firmly, Merlin sat down. He wasn't going to leave this spot until Arthur woke back up.

His magic flowed out of him and into Arthur. Whenever he'd wake up, it would be soon.

After about half an hour, TC put his hand on Merlin's shoulder. He hadn't even heard him come in the room.

"I'm going home to sleep." His voice was soft. "But when he wakes up and you guys go home, call me, okay?"

Merlin nodded, letting the words wash over him. Consume him. He lost track of time letting his inner dialogue plague him with worry.

Home. Would it be? Would Arthur see Merlin's cramped house as a home? Would Arthur even want to stay with Merlin? He'd probably want to find Gwen. Restart their marriage. He wouldn't want to stay with Merlin. Why would he when his wife could be somewhere in the world. Besides, he doesn't even l—

Arthur groaned, his eyelids fluttering weakly.

Merlin's throat went completely dry. All he could do was squeeze Arthur's hand more.

After a few more minutes, Arthur finally opened his eyes. Almost immediately, he looked to his left, and locked onto Merlin's eyes.

"Merlin," he whispered, his voice hoarse. Had he been yelling? Screaming? What had happened that he'd been sedated?

"Yes, it's me," Merlin finally managed to say. "I-I'm here."

Arthur's brows furred. "What? What are you saying?"

"What do you mean? I said that—oh. Fuck."

Merlin shook his head, slightly angered with himself. How could he have forgotten that Arthur didn't speak modern English? None of them had back then; it hadn't existed. He'd wanted to ease Arthur back into him. Into his magic.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Gently, he placed his right hand on Arthur's cheek, who immediately raised his own hand to grab it, though he didn't try to remove it. When Merlin's eyes turned gold, Arthur stiffened, but didn't let go of Merlin's hand. Either of his hands. He just held on tighter.

"Can you understand me?" Merlin asked, trembling.

"Y-Yes," Arthur said, his voice not quite as shaky, but just as soft. "Why couldn't I before?"

"Be…Because…" Merlin licked his lips. He tried for a different approach. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Arthur looked at him, blinked, and then closed his eyes. "I…I remember…you." He opened them again and looked at Merlin. "Thanking you. For…for everything you did. And then I…I died."

Merlin nodded, and he could feel the tears welling back up. "Yeah. You… Yeah. And now you're back. You're alive again."

"How? Why? Where are we?"

"Um." Merlin laughed a bit. "Magic, not sure yet, and a hospital."

"Hospital." Arthur said it like he was tasting the word on his tongue for the first time, which he was. He looked around. "I want to leave. I don't like it here."

Merlin bit his lip. "What…what happened before?"

Red tinged at Arthur's cheeks. He didn't look Merlin in the eye. "When I woke up, surrounded by…by all this, I was…" frightened "…concerned. That I was captured. I tried to talk to the…the people, but I couldn't understand them. They wouldn't let me get up and I…I became…" terrified "…worried for my…when I couldn't find my sword. Then I saw Gwaine… He reached for me…" and I reached for him "…then I saw nothing at all."

Merlin squeezed Arthur's hand again. Part of him grateful that he could still understand the unspoken words Arthur couldn't say aloud…the other part of him wishing he could've been there from the start to prevent those feelings from ever sizing Arthur's heart.

"Oh. Oh, Arthur. I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I should've been there. I—"

"Can we leave?" Arthur interrupted. "I'm fine. I want to leave."

He didn't want to talk about how terrified he was, understandably. Merlin could accept that.

"It shouldn't be a problem." He smiled. "I'll be able to get us both out quick, but. Um. Arthur's the world's changed a lot since you've been…gone. What you see in here is only a fraction of what the world out there looks like."

Arthur blinked. "Oh. How do you…? How long have you been…back?"

It was Merlin's turn to not look into Arthur's eyes. "Actually…I never quite…left."

"…What do you mean?"

"I mean I—"

He was thankfully interrupted from that painful conversation when a nurse walked in. She'd been checking her clipboard, but gasped when she looked up and saw the pair of them.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her surprise only lasting a second. "And you, you're supposed to be asleep!"

Merlin stood, putting a hand on her shoulders. "It's fine," he said. "Everything is fine and you're going to allow him to be discharged immediately."

She frowned as she nodded. "Yes. It is fine. Discharged. I'll go get the papers."

After a few blinks, she turned around, walking right back out the door.

"That… That was magic, wasn't it?" Arthur said softly. Almost in awe.

Merlin rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah… It was…"

It looked like Arthur wanted to say more, but he couldn't seem to form the words.

"Here you go," the nurse said, still a bit of a frown on her face. "Do you have a change of clothes for him?"

Oh, bloody hell. "Um. No…" And he didn't have any transportation. And TC was probably back at his house, fast asleep. Uber was not how he wanted Arthur's first car tide to be, but there didn't seem to be any other choice.

The nurse handed Merlin a pair of scrubs and went off to file the papers he signed.

"Don't worry, these are just until we get to my house," he assured when Arthur looked distastefully at the dark blue fabric.

Within half an hour, Merlin and Arthur were walking out the doors and into a waiting Uber. Well, Arthur was leaning a bit heavily on Merlin, but they were able to leave without too much unwanted attention, so Merlin counted that as a win. Plus, minus a small gasp, Arthur folded himself into the car without fear or complaint.

He looked out the window, watching the hospital grow smaller. Watching the people and the cars whiz by.

"The world is so big," he said, sounding so small.

"It is, isn't it? Are you from the country?" Their Uber driver—Sammy—asked with a thick southern accent. "I'm from the country myself. I don't miss it though. The grass and trees and bugs. Ugh. The city is where my heart belongs. I feel so alive here. Do you? Feel alive I mean. Here in the city."

Arthur took a breath, looking down at his hands. "I do feel alive, but…" he looked back out the window. "The trees and grass? I miss that."

Merlin put his hand on Arthur's shoulder, squeezing it, and offered a reassuring smile when Arthur turned to look at him. He'd meant to take his hand away, but Arthur's hand moved to hold onto his. For the third time that day, they held hands.

Merlin's heart jumped, but his brain told it to calm down. This was nothing more than a reassuring touch from a friend. Nothing more.

But they way Arthur was looking at him…

No.

Just friends.

Nothing more.

x~xXx~x

"This is your house?" Arthur breathed out. "It's huge!"

Merlin quirked an eyebrow. "Need I remind you that you lived in a castle?"

"Yes, but…" Arthur gently touched a picture frame, it was of Merlin, posing with some friends, taken before colored photos existed. "But no one else lived in a castle. Their houses weren't even half this size."

"That's…true." He watched Arthur stumble about his living room, touching random items and staring intently at others.

"You…You really didn't…did you?" His voice was soft.

"I really didn't what?"

He took a shuddering breath, as if he was afraid to speak. But then looked Merlin in the eye. "Die."

"O-Oh…"

"All this time, you've been alive. All this time." His voice was thick with…grief? Bewilderment? Maybe both.

Merlin needed to sit. "Well, the prophecy—"

"There's a prophecy?" Arthur interrupted, slightly dubious. "About you never dying."

"More like about you returning. At Albion's greatest time of need."

"What does that mean?"

Gods, how Merlin wished he'd had an answer for that. Somewhere in his house, there's three books filled page to page with theories and musings about what Kilgharrah meant. Some seemed to hold more weight than others, yet none of the potential Arthur Returning Events ever panned out.

"I've no idea…"

Slowly, Arthur moved to sit down beside Merlin on the couch, their knees touching.

"Is anyone else alive?" he asked quietly.

It took a moment for Merlin to understand what he was implying. "Besides Gwaine? No, I haven't found anyone else yet."

"Is Gwaine…like you?"

Merlin chuckled a bit at that. "No. He's actually a reincarnation. Goes by 'TC' now."

"TC." Arthur frowned. "I don't like that."

Merlin laughed. Then hit his forehead with his palm. "Shit, I promised him I'd call when we got back."

He took out his phone and quickly found TC's name.

"What is that?" Arthur asked. "Is it magic?"

"No, it's a mobile. It's for communication and—"

A gruff voice interrupted. "Hello?"

"TC. You asked me to call when we got to mine. We're at mine." He could feel Arthur staring at him.

"…Okay, I'm coming over." He only sounded marginally more awake.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You sound like the dead. Sleep. Come over later."

"Are…Are you sure?"

He heard what TC wasn't saying. Is this too much too soon? I can help balance things out. If it goes south, you know I'll be there for you. Even though he was fairly certain Gwaine already knew, admitting his feelings towards him to TC had been so hard. Still, he's grateful for the support.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks though."

"Okay… If you're sure…"

Merlin laughed. "I am. Please, TC, go to bed before you fall asleep right on this phone."

He snorted. "Asshole. Alright then. Night."

"It's nearly noon, TC."

"But saying 'noon' doesn't have the same effect as 'night' does." He yawned. "So, night. Give Arthur my best."

"I will."

Merlin was just about to shove his phone back into his pocket, but he noticed Arthur's wide eyes.

"Do you wanna see it?" he asked, holing out his palm.

Arthur nodded, but he didn't move to pick up the phone yet.

"It's called an iPhone," Merlin explained. "I can talk to people with it no matter haw far away they are. And I can write to them too."

"Write? But it's so small. How can you write anything on that?" He moved closer so that their legs were completely pressed together.

Merlin unlocked his phone and was about to touch the messenger icon, but Arthur had grabbed it from his hands.

"How did you do that? Magic?" he turned over the phone several times, staring at it intently. When he accidentally swiped the home screen, he flinched.

"Science actually," Merlin said slowly. "Everything you see around here is from science. Not magic."

Arthur frowned. "There's no way. Science has to be a form of magic, then."

"Actually," but he paused. That wasn't entirely wrong. The line between science and magic has always been pushed further and further back as the years rolled by. To Arthur, being able to communicate with someone who's far away was magic because the line between magic and science hadn't been moved for him yet. Certain spells required certain potions and what is that if not chemistry?

"Why are you laughing?" Arthur frowned.

"You're right." And he relished the shocked look on Arthur's face. "I can't believe I never saw it before. But magic and science…they're connected." He shook his head. "You've only been back a day, Arthur, and you connected something I hadn't been able to in over a millennium. That's just so crazy."

Pain flashed across Arthur's face, but it was soothed quick enough that Merlin wondered if he'd even seen it.

"What, uh, what did you say about writing on this thing?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah!"

For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, Merlin showed Arthur how to text, call, and play games. He was just starting to explain the concept of emails—what it's for, how it's different than texting, how to get one—when they were interrupted by a gurgling sound.

Arthur put his hand on his stomach, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Sorry…"

But Merlin jumped to his feet.

"Shit! Arthur, I'm so sorry! You must be starving, when did you last eat?" Without waiting for an answer, Merlin grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled him into the kitchen. "I'm a downright idiot. Let's see what I have. Okay, sandwich meat, cheese, potatoes, oh! I have some pasta. Do you want some—" He broke off, realizing Arthur hadn't heard a thing he'd said.

"What is all this stuff?" he asked, looking around.

"It's, um. It's my kitchen," Merlin said. He grabbed a few TV dinners and magicked them into being pipping hot and ready to eat. Motioning to sit down, he put one in front of Arthur. "That over there's my fridge, it keeps things cold and fresh. And that's the stove, to cook things and bake things… It's a lot to take in. I'm sorry."

Arthur took a deep breath and finally seemed to realize there was food under his nose. He poked at it with his fork, looking at Merlin with trepidation.

"It's edible, I promise," he quickly assured. "It's not the best thing, to be perfectly honest, but there's just so much here and I didn't want you to starve as I explained everything thing."

"Okay…" He took a bite and immediately made a face. "Yes, it's not the best…"

"I'll cook us something proper for dinner," Merlin promised. "And tomorrow, we can go out and buy some clothes for you."

"Didn't you tell Gwaine that he could come over later?"

"TC. He works tonight, so I can see if he can meet us at the mall tomorrow after his shift." He pulled out his phone, typing out a quick text.

Arthur blinked. "Mall…?"

"It's—"

"Wait." Arthur rubbed his eyes. "One thing at a time, please, Merlin. I can't… Tell me more about what it's this kitchen."

"…Right."

Merlin launched into explaining his gadgets and gizmos, adding how electricity played a part in all of it, like how it does in his iPhone. Then, they moved onto the rest of the house, slowly talking about the TV, laptop, lamps and lights, toilets, and the thermostat.

"So, electricity is everywhere, then? Is it in the air around us?"

They were back to sitting on the couch, but they were much more relaxed this time—leaning back into the cushions, their shoulders touching while their legs were stretched in front of them.

"Kinda. Electricity can be everywhere, with the right equipment to make it so. That's one of the differences between it and magic."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, magic is everywhere. It's not as strong as it used to be, but it's there. Here. Right now. But not everyone can access it. With electricity, once it's been set up to use, anyone can use it, but with magic, only certain people can."

Arthur hummed. Merlin wasn't sure if he actually understood, but the silence that emerged was a nice, calming one.

"…Merlin?"

Merlin opened his eyes, unaware he'd even closed them.

"Is magic legal now?"

He swallowed. "Magic… Technically no, it's not legal. Technically."

"Oh, Merlin. I'm so sorry." Arthur sounded genuinely anguished at that.

"I mean," he cleared his throat. "I mean, it's technically not legal because people don't think it's real. So, I suppose you could say it's technically not illegal either."

Arthur shifted, looking at Merlin with his brows furrowed. "Don't think it's real? How?"

"Well… There was a period of time when people did think so. But it didn't end well." Merlin closed his eyes, remembering the people he lost during the burning trials in the sixteenth century. He'd tried to get away to America, tried to bring his friends to safety, but the burning trials there were just as brutal.

His hand was suddenly squeezed.

Looking down, he saw Arthur's hand wrapped around his. "I'm sorry. You had to go through that again." His voice was low. "I know that when I was… When you were my… I know what my father did wasn't kind to sorcerers. What I did and believed."

"Gwen made magic legal," Merlin said, his voice uncomfortably thick. "The day after we buried you. She abolished your father's old laws."

"That should've been me," Arthur whispered.

Merlin smiled ruefully. "But by the time Gwen died, magic was… It wasn't practiced as widespread. I don't know why. And soon, magic became a legend. A fantasy. But, around the 1500s, whispers of it spread throughout America and what used to be Albian. The people were terrified and many women were burned. Some men."

His hand was squeezed again.

"It was called the burning trials. Witch trials here in America. I never feared for my life. I knew I wouldn't be harmed, even if they did suspect me. No one did," he chuckled, not noticing Arthur's clenched jaw. "Some of my friends were accused, but none of them actually had magic. No one did. Not a single person had possessed…" Merlin stopped, feeling the hot tears burning just beneath his eyes. But he would not cry. He did enough of it back then. Hell, he did enough of it during his nightmares. He squeezed Arthur's hand back. "It's over now. Those trials were a long time ago. There might be a few people who call themselves witches and claim to practice magic today, but they've no idea what they're doing. They don't feel the magic in the air or under their feet."

"So, you're the last one." Arthur's voice was tight. "The last sorcerer. That must be very lonely."

"Yeah. It is. The last sorcerer, the last Dragonlord." Merlin sighed. "I'm the last."

"Dragonlord?"

"But there's no more dragons left for me to command, even if I wanted to." Then Merlin realized exactly why Arthur had sounded so strangled by the term. His hands flew to his mouth. "Oh, shit. Arthur, I never told you."

"I thought the last Dragonlord died. Balinor," Arthur said, his tone hinting towards accusatory.

Merlin hung his head, unable to look Arthur in the eye.

"He did die," he whispered. "But the ability is passed from father to son, once the father is dead." He took a breath. "Gaius had told me just before we left to find him. I didn't know before then, but Balinor… He was my father."

"O-Oh. Merlin, I—"

He held up his hand. "It's okay, Arthur. That was a long time ago."

"It wasn't for me," he argued. "And I…I remember you crying over him. Over Balinor."

Merlin didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. What was there to even say?

Perhaps Arthur sensed this, because he didn't press on. But after a few minutes had passed, he did ask, in a small voice, "What did you mean when you said you knew you wouldn't be harmed? Talking about the burning trials. How did you know?"

YOU'RE THE VOICE TRY AND UNDERSTAND IT~

They jumped at the sudden noise. Merlin quickly fumbled for his phone, grateful for the save from answering Arthur's question.

"Hello?"

"Merlin! Hey, it's me! Casey! Casey Norman!"

"I know, Casey, I have caller ID. Why did you change my ringtone again?" Something crashed in the background. "What was that? Casey where—"

"I'm at the bar, you should join us!" A faint cheer could be heard.

Bar. That explained why her words were slightly slurred.

"I'm on vacation, you know. I can't just come to the bar to have a pint with you guys."

"Aww, but you never come to the bar. It's spring break! We don't have to be teachers for another five days!"

Teachers. Fuck, Merlin forgot all about his job. What the hell was Arthur going to do when he had to go back to teaching? Only five days to figure it out.

"I appreciate you thinking of me, Casey, but I can't. Maybe next time."

"You always say that," she whined. "Guys, he's still not coming."

He heard a chorus of boos in the background. Laughing, he said, "Have fun, Casey. And be safe."

"You're always looking out for me, Merlin."

"I always look out for my friends. Bye, Casey."

When he turned back to Arthur, he couldn't help but be drawn to a small vein popping out from his forehead. It was the same one that would make an appearance whenever he watched Gwen talking with Lancelot.

"Who's Casey?" For anyone who didn't know him, Arthur sounded as calm and nonchalant as ever. But Merlin knew him.

He frowned. "Someone I work with. She teaches maths at the high school."

"Work with," Arthur repeated.

"Yeah. She's brilliant at maths and a really good friend, but it's a bit of a shame though. She fancies me a bit and wants to be more than friends, but…I can't reciprocate her feelings."

The vein grew smaller.

"You can't? Why is that? Do you have a girlfriend, Merlin?" He smirked, but something still felt off.

Merlin blushed, remembering the confession he'd told TC. "No, nothing like that. I'm not seeing anyone right now."

"You're blushing," Arthur teased.

"Yeah, well…" He coughed. "There is…someone…I wish I could… But they don't like me back. And relationships… They never turn out well for me. I'm immortal. Everyone else isn't."

"Oh…" Arthur looked at him strangely, a mired of emotions dancing across his face, but Merlin was unable to decipher any of them.

He stood up. "It's almost seven. How about I cook us some dinner? A proper dinner."

"Okay…" Then, Arthur got that determined look in his eye. "I'll help you."

"You'll help…?" Merlin laughed. "Arthur, you're a king! You don't have to help me cook dinner."

"But I'm not a king," Arthur said. His hand twitched slightly. "Not anymore. And I should learn my keep in this new world." For a moment, everything was silent, and Merlin wanted to reach out and protect Arthur like he used to. Protect him from this big world, vastly different than the one he was used to. But then, the prat just had to open his mouth again. "Besides. What if you're a shit cook? There aren't any castle servants to make my meals now, and if I don't want to starve, I'll just have to make my own food."

"I'm a great cook, you clotpole. And I'll prove it to you."

"Yes, you will."

They grinned. The easy banter flowing through them as if nothing had changed, no time had passed. It was a bit awkward at first, but teaching Arthur to cook went much better than Merlin had feared. No one burned themselves or cut themselves, so it was definitely a win. And the meat and potatoes were absolutely delicious.

"Not bad, Arthur." Merlin grinned.

"Yes, I suppose you aren't a terrible cook yourself," but he was also grinning. "Certainly better than you used to be."

Merlin crossed his arms. "Excuse you, my rabbit stew was delicious, and you know it."

Arthur shrugged, but his blasé façade was ruined when he started laughing. "Gods, Merlin, do you remember that time Leon accidentally dropped his bowl?"

"Oh gods!" He tried not to snort his water. "Yes! And the way he just looked down at it, so dejected."

"And then Percival had said…"

It was nearly midnight by the time they'd stopped laughing and reminiscing. A comfortable silence had settled between them. For a moment, Merlin could imagine his kitchen dissolving away, leaving them sitting on the hard ground, just to the two of them out on a hunting trip surrounded by the quiet woods. But then Arthur yawned, causing him to yawn too.

"It's been a long day," he said quietly. "Would you like to go to sleep?

Arthur hummed, standing and stretching. Merlin quickly looked away from the exposed skin that rode up.

"Put your plate here," he said, walking to the sink. "I'll get it in the morning."

"Couldn't you just magic them clean now?"

"Technically, but I'm tired. And there's nothing wrong with my dish washer, so there's no need to expand energy."

Arthur followed him towards the bedroom. "Does magic take a lot of energy?"

Merlin rummaged around his drawers for something that might be more comfortable for Arthur to sleep in besides the scrubs. He had nothing his size.

"The bigger the task, the more energy it takes, yeah. But back then, I never felt any depletion since there was so much magic in the air."

He turned to apologize for his lack of Arthur-sized clothing—which was why they were going shopping tomorrow—but it didn't seem Arthur cared about sleeping in the scrubs. His shirt was already off, but he was frowning, looking around the room.

"Isn't this your room, Merlin?"

Rubbing his neck, he said, "Well, yeah, but I don't have a guest bedroom. It's okay though, the couch is fine."

Arthur's frown deepened. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin, you shouldn't sleep on the floor in your own home. This bed is plenty big for the both of us. I won't kick you out of your own bed."

"The couch, not the floor." But Merlin remembered when Gwen had given up her bed for Arthur and how embarrassed Arthur had felt at his behavior. Would he have offered to share the bed with her had he planned on spending another night? Her bed was small, much smaller than his bed now—granted, Merlin's bed was only a full; it would be a tight fit—but there were also the social stipulations that Arthur and Gwen faced, especially since Arthur was royalty.

"Merlin." Arthur drew him out of his wondering. "Get in your own bed. I insist."

And that's how Merlin found himself the next morning. Sleeping beside Arthur, their faces so close they almost touched. But he was there. Breathing. Real. Peaceful.

He didn't want to think of what horrible future lay that the prophecy finally came into being with bringing Arthur back.

0~xXx~0

"The man was discharged sometime this morning."

TC looked up from his third cup of coffee. "Is that so?"

Drew scrunched up his nose. "Dude, our shift is almost over. Why are you drinking so much coffee?"

He shrugged. "I've got plans after this, and I don't want to fall asleep during them."

"Plans with the discharged man?"

TC glared. "What do you want, Drew."

He raised his hands placatingly. "There's no need for hostility. Need I remind you, you were the one who tried to run me down on your motorcycle yesterday."

"Yeah…I am sorry about that."

He chuckled. "So, do you have anything better for me today? Because witness protection isn't going to cut it."

"You really don't think it's the truth?"

"I really don't."

"Okay, fine. Fine, you got me." TC set his coffee cup down. Here is goes… "You're right, Drew. Witness protection was a shit excuse. The real reason I was so crazy about that naked, blonde man is because he's King Arthur from Arthurian myths finally raised back from the dead, like the prophecy of old said he would. Which means that something's coming, something big, Maybe magical. Speaking of magical, Merls, the person I was talking to yesterday, is actually Merlin, yep, the Merlin. Surprise, magic exists! Except, unfortunately, Hogwarts and Harry Potter aren't real, but Merlin would definitely be a Slytherin, so that part's true."

Drew raised his eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And how do you fit in all this? You Lancelot?"

"Actually, I'm Gwaine's reincarnation. Might not have heard of me, but that's okay. I'm still a Knight of the Round table nonetheless."

Silence. TC counted: three, two—

"Oh my god!" Drew doubled over laughing.

"What's so funny?" Kenny asked, walking up in time to see Drew wiping the tears from his face. Jordan and Shannon were right behind him.

"Dr. Callahan, here," Drew clapped TC's shoulder, "Has quite the imagination." He let out another laugh. "Okay, okay, dude. Sorry for not believing you at first. How the hell did you come up with that story?"

"What story?" Shannon asked.

Drew had to wipe his eyes again. "Did you guys hear about that man from the other day? Walked into the ER covered in blood and as naked as the day he was born?" They nodded. "Apparently our dear friend here, knows him."

"TC is that true?" Jordan asked at the same time Kenny asked, "So, who is he?"

Grinning, Drew flung his hands wide. "Well, apparently, he's King Arthur and he was discharged by Merlin, the old, bearded wizard. Oh, and did I mention that TC actually a Knight of the Round Table?"

Kenny laughed. "And yeah? And who are you really, TC? Lancelot?"

"Maybe he's Guinevere," Sharon said, unable to hold back her snort.

TC held his hands over his heart. "I'm wounded you think I'd betray King Arthur like that," he mocked. "I'm actually Gwaine."

Drew and Kenny laughed, holding onto each other for support. Sharron rolled her eyes at the theatrics, though she couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping her lips. But Jordan. Jordan's smile faded and a dazed look replaced her amusement.

"Gwaine…?"

TC held his breath. Was she going to remember? Could she remember?

But all too soon, it disappeared.

"You really do have quite the imagination. You ready to get breakfast?" Sharron asked, turning to Jordan.

"Definitely, I'm starving." He eyes glistened with glee. "And I have to tell you about last night…"

TC could hear Shannon's "Oh, shit, girl!" before they were completely out of earshot.

"Alright, dude. Thanks for the laugh, but I got to go. Rick, Brianna, and I have a breakfast date set up. And you know how difficult it is to get Brianna out of bed at this time." Drew clapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head, before turning to leave.

"Aw, man," Kenny said. "TC, I had no idea you were so creative. You should write children's stories."

He smiled weakly, muttering a maybe and setting down his charts.

"See you later, Kenny."

"Later!"

Nothing like the truth to throw people off your scent. And nothing like a hot shower to clear your mind.

He glanced at his phone as he stepped out of the shower. 8:01 AM. What great timing.

TC [8:01 AM]: Finished my shower. Be at yours in 20

By the time he put his clothes on, there was a response.

Magic Merls [8:03 AM]: Arthur's still not awake. Still can't believe it's real

Magic Merls [8:03 AM]: But his snoring is real enough, holy fuck

Laughing, he quickly texted TC[8:06 AM]: Not much has changed then, Princess was always loud as shit.

He was going to leave it at that, but it didn't feel right. Biting his lip, he added TC [8:07 AM]: You doing okay? before tossing his phone of the bed. Slowly, he put his socks, shoes, and jacket on and swung his backpack onto his shoulder. He wasn't even sure how he felt about Arthur finally being back—he was almost afraid of Merlin's answer. Before he opened his car, he, reluctantly, checked his messages.

Magic Merls [8:09 AM]: Good, actually. I'm good

Magic Merls [8:10 AM]: We shared a bed last night

Magic Merls [8:10 AM]: BUT NOT LIKE THAT

Magic Merls [8:10 AM]: Fuck

Magic Merls [8:11 AM]: I just meant that it made him feel so much more real

Magic Merls [8:11 AM]: That's not better. Dammit

Magic Merls [8:11 AM]: …

Magic Merls [8:12 AM]: See you soon TC

He nearly dropped his phone he was laughing so hard. By the time he drove to Merlin's, his stomach ached, but at least he'd stopped crying. Doing a quick once-over in the rear-view mirror, he was relived that he didn't look as though he'd laughed so hard he almost ran into a tree.

"Hey!" Merlin greeted, opening the door before he was even halfway to his door. A cup of coffee was in his hand. "Arthur's in the shower."

TC raised his eyebrow as he took the offered coffee. "He knows how to use a shower?"

"No, I had to show him—not like that!" He lightly slapped TC's arm. "You're a perv."

"You're the one who slept in the bed with him," TC countered, laughing.

Crossing his arms, Merlin blushed. "He said he wouldn't let me sleep on the couch. It was a very nice gesture."

TC refrained from saying that Arthur could've been the one to sleep on the couch. Instead, he asked, "So where are we going for breakfast because I'm famished."

"I was thinking—"

He was interrupted by a dripping wet, towel clad Arthur.

"Merlin, what am I supposed to wear now?" But he paused as soon as he caught sight of TC. His jaw dropped slightly, almost as if he were in awe. Almost. Because, of course, his next words, said with a distasteful frown, were: "You cut your hair."

"I did. I also have some clothes for you," he held up his backpack. "It might be a bit snug, but you should be able to wear these for today."

"Thanks." He reached for the bag, and when they're fingers brushed, TC couldn't help but shiver a little. "You…You really do look just like him. Gwaine."

TC shrugged. "Well, I kinda am him, right?" He turned to Merlin, who was pointedly not looking at Arthur.

"What? Oh, yeah. Um, kind of. But reincarnation doesn't mean you're an exact replica or anything."

Arthur hummed before turning around and heading towards Merlin's room to change.

"Well look at that, he can actually dress himself," TC murmured.

Arthur's head poked out, scowling. "Merlin, what the hell are these round things?"

"Round things?" TC repeated.

Merlin smacked his forehead. "Buttons. Dammed buttons. Stupid thirteenth century invention. I'll be right back."

"Hey now, buttons are a great invention!" he called out after Merlin.

A pale, long finger was shot up in response.

TC laughed. Sipping his coffee, he listened in.

"Okay, so these are buttons. You try to get one into that little slit there."

"This is way too big to fit in that tiny hole."

Coffee was sputtered all over Merlin's table. Trying not to choke, TC quickly glanced down, and thankfully his shirt was coffee-free. Grabbing napkins, he strained his ears to listen in again.

"—getting the hang of it!"

"I still think there's magic involved in this."

"Nope. And this time, it's not science either. Okay, put this on."

"…It's so stiff. What material is this?"

TC managed to only snort quietly at 'stiff.'

"It's called denim. Okay now just zip it and button it."

"Do what?"

"Zip it. You know…"

"…Merlin what in gods' name did you just sign to me."

TC mimed zipping something to see what Arthur saw. He was glad he didn't have any coffee in my mouth again.

"You just… Just… Dammit… Let me do it."

Arthur's surprised squeak was barely heard from the kitchen. Good thing TC had moved out to the hallway.

"There that's how it's done."

"Um…right…"

"…Arthur, you can do that button now."

His throat cleared. "Right."

When they started moving again, TC dashed back into the kitchen. He hoped he sat nonchalantly enough, but Merlin's eyes narrowed slightly when he walked in. Arthur, in his slightly-too-tight white button up and slightly-too-short dark jeans, didn't seem to notice anything amiss.

"So, breakfast, right?" he asked. "Then we go to the mail."

"Mall," Merlin corrected gently.

"That place."

TC waved his car keys. "Let's go."

x~xXx~x

"Are you sure you had room back there?" Arthur asked, watching Merlin emerge from the back seat.

"Oh, yes, plenty."

He hummed, but didn't say anything else.

"Alright, Arthur, this is one of the best breakfast diners around." TC waved his hand towards the building. "They've got pancakes, they've got waffles, they've got—"

"What are those?"

"Oh, boy, we've got a lot to teach you, huh?" TC nudged Merlin, who laughed.

"Come on inside, Arthur, we'll show you."

TC spent the majority of breakfast watching the two of them talk. Merlin would explain a thing, quickly backtrack at Arthur's confused look, get distracted by the waiter, and then repeat the whole process all over again. Occasionally, he'd put in his two cents, or Merlin would look towards him helplessly after trying five different ways to explain something.

But when the plates were finally brought out to them, after having to tell the waiter four times they weren't ready to order, all confusion was forgotten.

"I think I prefer meat and potatoes to pancakes…" Arthur mumbled.

"You've got some bacon and sausages right there. But you can't only eat meat and potatoes, Arthur," Merlin chided. "You'll get fat."

Before whatever Arthur was thinking could be spoken, TC quickly interrupted.

"Try it with this." He grabbed the syrup and dunked it all on Arthur's pancakes. "Best part about North America, we've got maple syrup."

Cautiously, Arthur his fork to his lips and sniffed. "It smells really sweet."

"It tastes even sweeter," he goaded.

When Arthur put the fork in his mouth, his eyes popped like a child's overinflated balloon. "Dear gods, this is amazing!"

He smiled, feeling smug.

"Merlin, we're making this for breakfast every day!"

Laughing, TC said, "Arthur, as much as I love pancakes, you can't limit yourself! There's waffles and crepes and omelets, not to mention pancakes with fruit and sprinkles and—"

"TC, none of what you just said is any healthier than only eating meat and potatoes!" Merlin admonished, laughing.

"Merls, he hasn't even been back for two days yet!" Even amongst the craziness of, well, everything, he enjoyed being able to tease and bicker with Merlin like normal. "Arthur cam worry about diabetes and cavities and all that shit next week. Or month."

"Dia-wha?" Arthur asked around a mouthful of pancakes.

TC eyed Merlin, who was eyeing him right back. They burst out laughing.

"Wha's so funny?" demanded Arthur, his mouth still stuffed full with pancakes.

"Nothing, nothing," they said, amidst a fit of giggles.

If TC thought breakfast was enjoyable, going to the mall and watching Arthur's eyes grow wide and his mouth fall was ever better.

"This place is huge," he breathed out. "It's got to be at least as big as the castle."

"Maybe," Merlin said. Then lower, "You doing okay?"

"Y-Yeah. For now."

TC pretended he didn't hear the exchange. When they entered the sliding doors, Merlin explaining the science behind it quietly, TC lead the group to the first store. They took their time, allowing Arthur to touch and feel and try on everything.

One shop at a time. That's what he and Merlin had agreed on. By the time they were ready for lunch, it was just past 1 PM and Arthur had several bags filled from several stores. And TC was just about ready to keel over, his entire being begging him to fall asleep.

He downed a large black coffee with three extra expresso shots and two scoops of sugar. He didn't work tomorrow and there was no way in hell he was going to miss any part of this experience.

"Pizza looks very strange," Arthur was saying when TC walked up to their table.

"Pizza is an American staple," he said, grabbing his slice. "Trust me, Arthur. It's delicious."

He made a face, but, slowly, Arthur brought the triangle to his mouth. It was filled with extra cheese, red bell peppers, spinach, chicken, mushrooms, and olives.

Arthur's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he groaned. "Okay, yeah, this is really good," he said, mouth full of pizza.

With a blush tinging his cheeks, Merlin admonished, "Arthur, you really need to stop talking with your mouth full. You could choke."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but waited until he swallowed to say, "Merlin, I might not be your king, but it's still rude to tell people what to do."

"Just wait until you choke then and I end up saving you again."

TC had to covering up his laughter with a cough. It really was like nothing had changed.

"Are you okay, Gwa—um, TC?"

He grinned. Arthur had been accidently calling him 'Gwaine' all morning, but he was trying to change, bless him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking. I'm just thinking, we should head over to the suit store afterward. I think you're good on jeans and shirts. You need a good suit."

"Do I really need more clothes? I swear this is more than I owned when I was a king!" He gestured to the bags.

"Mate, trust me, every man needs at least one good suit. If not two or three."

With a dubious expression, he looked to Merlin, who nodded.

"Yeah, you need a suit, Arthur. Maybe two."

"Okay…"

As it turned out, Arthur preferred the suits to the jeans, shorts, and shirts they'd previously bought. And Merlin, that poor man, couldn't refuse Arthur when his eyes shone bright and his walk was more of a kingly strut as he pranced around in a suit.

They left the store with four suits. A plain black one with a black tie. A deep blue with the same colored bowtie. A light grey with a Camelot-red tie. And, finally, a deep marron suit with black accents and black bowtie. They also bought white, black, light blue, and light pink dress shirts as well as a black and a tan pair of dress shoes.

Arthur walked out of that store dressed in the light grey suit and white shirt with the Camelot-red tie and black dress shoes.

"Someone feels like a million bucks," TC said to Merlin, who couldn't take his eyes off Arthur.

"Yeah…"

They were in a sunglass shop, and Arthur was trying on every. single. one.

"He could be a business man with that outfit. Have you thought about what job he could pursue?"

That shook Merlin out of his reverie. "I… Not really. If Arthur's back, then something big is going to happen. Albian's greatest need. I don't know if Arthur will ever need a job."

"Okay, but what about afterwards? When you—Wait." Something in TC's brain clicked. His mouth went dry. "Merlin, do…do you think that Arthur won't make it? Because that's the only reason why I can imagine him not needing a job."

Merlin didn't answer right away. When he did, he took a deep, shaky breath before he even opened his mouth. "TC, I have no idea. I don't know what the big bad is, I don't know what Arthur's role in it is, and I definitely don't know what'll happen if we lose. Or win."

"What do you guys think about this?" Arthur called, wearing large, white-framed sunglasses.

"Absolutely not," TC said.

Arthur made a face, but put them back and reached for the next one.

"What if the universe wants to take Arthur back after we succeed?" Merlin whispered, so softly TC could barely hear him. "What if we fail and it takes Arthur back as punishment. What if—"

"Okay, stop." TC squeezed Merlin's shoulder. "You said it yourself: You don't know what'll happen. And that's okay. So, do what we did today. Take it one day at a time. Today, we bought Arthur clothes. Tomorrow, you'll continue teaching him about the modern world. After this school year ends, I'm sure you'll move back to the UK. But that's months from now. You need to take it one day at a time."

"One day at a time," he repeated, looking over to Arthur, who was handing over the large, white-framed sunglasses to a woman. She seemed delighted at them.

"Just worry about being with Arthur right now. That's already a day job, as you know. Be his friend, his support system. Let him be yours. Remember, I'm always here too, okay?"

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. You're right."

"These two," Arthur said, walking up to them, showing them a sophisticated, sleek black pair as well as a bright orange-y, pink pair. He eyed TC's hand on Merlin's shoulder, but didn't say anything about it.

"Interesting combination," Merlin said.

Arthur shrugged, looking slightly bashful. "I think they look fun."

"You're absolutely right." Merlin grinned. "I'll go pay for them."

"I'm not making Merlin go bankrupt, am I?" Arthur asked quietly when he was out of earshot.

TC shook his head. "Merlin's been saving money since bank accounts came into existence. He's loaded, even after donating millions to charities all around the world every month, so don't worry."

"I don't know if I can ever pay him back."

"Trust me, you being back is payment enough for him. But if you really want to physically pay him back, you could always look into jobs. Intern at some business, learn the lingo, and crawl your way to the top. You ran a kingdom, I'm sure this modern stuff is a piece of cake."

Arthur squinted. "I think I understand what you just said… You're certainly more level-headed than Gwaine ever was."

He laughed. "Maybe. I don't drink as much. Anymore." At Arthur's questioning face, he clarified, "I was in a war. That changes you a bit, as I know you're aware. Merlin was too. In many wars. He might seem put together now, but nightmares have a way of sneaking up on us."

"…What are you getting at?"

TC watched as Merlin laughed and waved at the cashier, who looked like his day had just been made merely by talking to Merlin. It probably had; no matter what he went through, Merlin still went out of his way to brighten other people's days.

"Just look out for him," he said. "He's been through a lot. He's missed you."

"Here you go, Arthur," Merlin said, presenting the bag. "Your sunglasses."

Stretching his arms, TC grinned. "And with that, I think we're done! Ice cream, anyone?"

"Let me go to the bathroom first." Merlin dashed off.

Slowly, he and Arthur left the shop, going to stand by the front doors, basking in the AC before entering the hot hell of Texas in the spring. At least it wasn't summer yet.

For few moments, they stood in comfortable silence, but eventually, Arthur shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Merlin mentioned something last night," he started quietly. "About liking someone who doesn't like him back. Do you know who that is?"

Well, damn. That wasn't what TC expected Arthur to say at all. Although it technically wasn't a confession, it was close enough that he wanted to congratulate Merlin. Honestly, he didn't think the man would have the balls to even say that much.

"Curious who the person that captured Merlin's heart is?" he asked, going for lightly teasing.

"Is it you?"

"Me?" he sputtered. If he's been drinking coffee, it'd have been everywhere. "God, no. It's not me."

"But you know who it is."

TC sighed. "Yeah, I do."

It was silent for another moment, but he could tell Arthur wanted to ask more. It was only a matter of time.

"What's she like?"

TC raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

"N-No, no. I just mean," Arthur backtracked, blushing. "Merlin said that she didn't like him back. And I was just curious. Who could've, um, caught his attention, but didn't reciprocate. She can't be horrid if he likes her."

Dammit, where was Merlin? As much as he wanted to shake Arthur and shout, "It's you, idiot! He likes you!" he couldn't. Just because he had a little inkling that things weren't quite as unreciprocated as Merlin thought, he wasn't about to stick his nose in this. It wasn't his business and wasn't his heart. (But of course, he'd be there for Merlin no matter if it was to help pick up the pieces of his heart or if it was to help write his wedding invites.)

"Him," he finally said. "Not her, him."

Arthur's eyes went wider than when he'd first eaten pancakes with syrup or stepped foot in the mall.

"It's a man?" he all but squeaked.

"You got a problem with that?" He decided not to remind Arthur that just a few moments ago, he'd asked TC if it was him.

Arthur was silent for a long while. TC almost thought the conversation was over when he heard a quiet voice.

"It was never exactly outlawed. When I was alive. But it was frowned upon. And you were expected to sire children no matter if you were a pauper or a prince." Arthur took a breath. "I didn't think much of it most of my life. But. Towards the end, I, uh. I did think about it. A bit. A lot. Like how it was a stupid rule. People should be able to be with who they love. There were enough orphans back then that siring children shouldn't have been that big of deal. Even for a king."

And, holy fuck, TC had a lot of questions he wanted to ask about that, but of course, that was when Merlin decided to make his appearance.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"What is ice cream?" Arthur asked, acting as if he hadn't just said something bomb-dropping.

"Well…" Merlin explained the history of ice cream as TC wordless followed them to the car. This time, the two sat in the back together, Arthur's bags in the trunk and his suits hanging over the front seat so they wouldn't wrinkle.

He hoped there was some whiskey-flavored ice cream at the shop they were going to. There wasn't. But he did manage to laugh along and contribute to the conversations.

"Hey, Arthur," he said quietly as they walked to the car, Merlin on the phone politely refusing going to the bar with some of his teacher friends.

"Yes, Gw—TC?"

"You should tell Merlin what you told me. In the mall."

"I… Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"…Okay."

He dropped them off at Merlin's before driving to his house and crashing into his bed, sleeping until early afternoon the next day.

0~xXx~0

"How are you feeling?" Merlin asked as soon as the bags were settled down.

"Tired," he answered honestly. "But I'm not ready to go to sleep yet."

Merlin nodded in understanding. Arthur wondered how he could possibly tell Merlin what he'd told TC. Wouldn't it be awkward if he just brought it up with no context? And, honestly, why did it matter anyway? It's not like it's a big deal or anything.

It's not like he'd been thinking about it nearly every day the entire year before he died.

It's not like he'd been constantly finding himself reminiscing of the times when he was a bachelor.

And it was just him and Merlin against the world.

It's not like he actually meant something entirely different to Merlin as he laid dying—

"Would you like to watch a movie?"

"Uh, what?" He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the rampant thoughts in his mind. "A movie?"

"…Maybe it's enough modern stuff for today," Merlin suggested instead.

Arthur nodded. "Agreed. I think…I think I'd just like to, um, talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes." He tried to maintain a natural demeanor, but his heart fluttered in his chest. "I'd like to know more about your life, Merlin. What you've been up to since I…since I was gone."

"It's a bit boring actually," Merlin said, sitting down on his bed. "I don't lead a very exciting life…"

Arthur joined him. "Somehow I doubt that. Please, tell me something."

"Okay…"

Several hours went by as Merlin talked, slowly but steadily. They'd ended up laying down, not quite facing each other, but not completely flat on their backs either. Arthur watched Merlin's face closely. He had a tell when he wasn't speaking the whole truth. It wasn't obvious, but from this angle, from the way Arthur's eyes never left Merlin's face, his eyes, cheeks, lips, he could see it.

It always happened when he was glossing over the details of something too nonchalantly. Like when he talked about living alone by the lake Arthur had emerged from. Or when he was talking about the burning trials. Or when he mentioned the wars he's seen.

"It's pretty late, are you hungry?" he murmured at last, his eyes closed.

"No," Arthur whispered. It was a lie, but he couldn't bare to ask Merlin to get up now. Not with TC's words swirling in his mind—Just look out for him. He's been through a lot. He's missed you—along with the images Merlin had just spoken.

Merlin's lips parted, as if he was going to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he took a deep breath before his breathing finally evened out. Somehow, even deep in slumber, he still looked burdened. Arthur wanted to reach out and sooth his face.

He didn't.

Rather, he rolled over and attempted to go to sleep. When it finally claimed him, hours later, he dreamed of Merlin. The way he'd smiled when they first met, all cheeky and full of life. The he'd stood beside Arthur always even if the situation looked grim. The way he'd laughed, the joyous sounds echoing throughout the stone halls. The way he'd cried as Arthur's vision swarmed with black spots and pain ate away at his mind. The way he'd kicked him and—

Wait.

What?

Kicked him?

Arthur opened his eyes, unsure where he was for the first few seconds, but then it all came back in a rush. He was in Merlin's room, his new room, in the twenty-first century. He was alive again, breathing and moving and sleeping in Merlin's bed. His leg tingled funnily and behind him was the sound of rustling sheets.

"Merlin?" he whispered, turning around. "Are you…?"

His heart jumped to his throat. Merlin was twitching, his hands tightly clenching his pillow and his shoulders tense. Despite his face being buried into his pillow, Arthur could still hear faint whimpers. It looked like he was in the thralls of a nightmare.

"M-Merlin?"

With shaking hands, Arthur reached out, unsure how to comfort the man, but knowing he couldn't just sit there and do nothing. Just as his hand touched Merlin's shoulder, he jerked awake with a gasp, pushing himself up on his hands.

"Merlin," Arthur tried again.

With unseeing, glossy eyes, Merlin turned his head towards Arthur's voice. He blinked a few times before quickly shifting his weight to sit back on his calves with a gasp. Shivering, he crossed his arms across his chest, fingernails digging into the skin.

"S-Sorry," he stuttered out, smiling unconvincingly. "I'm fine. Didn't mean to wake you up."

"Merlin—"

"I'm going to the bathroom, don't wait up for me," he interrupted, getting up and leaving the room before Arthur could form a response.

He wanted to get up and follow—Merlin was very obviously not fine and if something was troubling him, Arthur wanted to help—but then he remembered about the man that had captured Merlin's heart. He remembered their relationship from before he died.

Merlin wouldn't want Arthur's comfort.

With a heavy, aching heart, he got comfortable again in the bed. When Merlin finally came back, his skin slightly wet and smelling of fresh soap, Arthur pretended to be asleep.

He pretended to be asleep as Merlin whispered, "I'm so sorry…I didn't want you to ever see that."

When a tentative hand brushed his hair out of his eyes, he pretended to be asleep.

He pretended to be asleep as he turned around to accidently swing his arm around Merlin's waist.

When Merlin slowly snuggled closer to him, he pretended to be asleep.

x~xXx~x

Arthur woke up alone.

But he also woke up with the smell of bacon filling the room.

Blearily, he wondered into the kitchen, where he was greeted by Merlin's naked back. It took him a moment to realize Merlin was wearing anything at all—the soft, baggy pants rode very low on his hips. His hair was wet, as if he'd taken another shower.

"Oh, good morning!" Merlin said, smiling sweetly as he turned to face Arthur, whisking something in a bowl. He wore an apron that covered his chest. It was black with a giant, gold 9¾ on it with lightning bolts and strange circles with wings splattered everywhere.

"I smell bacon," he said, finally looking away from the apron. He didn't want to think about how something as mundane as a cook's apron could be so different from what he was used to. Not when he'd just woken up. (And knowing Merlin was completely shirtless was…not helpful either.)

"Yes, it's almost ready. And I'm making some omelets too, they'll be ready soon." Merlin set a cup of coffee in front of him. It was nearly the color of milk, just how he'd realized he liked it yesterday. "Did you sleep well?"

Arthur took a sip of the coffee, remembering the feel of Merlin pressed up against him; his arm resting heavily on Merlin's side, Merlin's breath soft against his neck… He hadn't slept for a long time after Merlin had come back from the bathroom, afraid he'd have another nightmare. Afraid he wouldn't get the chance to hold him again.

"Fine," he said. "You?"

"It wasn't awful," Merlin admitted and Arthur wondered if he was going to talk about what he'd dreamed. "But I think my full might be a bit too small for us. A queen should allow for more space for us."

Luckily, Arthur hadn't been drinking at that moment, else he would've choked. More space?

…But maybe he should've seen this coming. He shouldn't have cuddled him last night, even under the guise of being asleep. Their friendship worked a certain way, and he'd tried to change that. It wasn't the way they were.

"So, I was thinking we could go do some more shopping today," Merlin continued. "And I can take you to see other things about the modern world, like movie theaters and the football field. Well, Americans say soccer, but that's absolutely ridiculous. It's a ball and you use your foot. Football, obviously."

He set a plat filled with bacon and a giant yellow-log down in front of Arthur.

"I put some cheese, mushrooms, and spinach in the omelet," Merlin said. Then, "What do you think? Ready to go back into the world again today?"

Arthur looked at the food and at Merlin's smiling face and back at the food.

"I…I don't know," he admitted. "I think I'd rather stay here today. I've still got a lot to learn…especially since you have to go back to work soon…"

Merlin's face fell slightly, but it was covered with an eyeroll. "Thanks for reminding me of that, Arthur." He groaned. "I still haven't graded everything I need to, dammit… Well, I suppose that settles it. We'll stay here today. I'll teach you how to use the internet, and then I'll start grading the papers."

"Why do I need to learn how to use the internet? Wouldn't learning how to cook be better? Or drive?"

He smacked his forehead. "Drive. Fuck, I've left my car at the airport. I'll have to go get it."

Arthur frowned. "What?"

"Never mind, it's okay." Merlin waved his fork around. "But the internet is very useful, Arthur. It'll help you cook and tell you how to go to places. You can ask it anything and there'll be an answer! Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

This time, Arthur rolled his eyes, but he did as told, trying the omelet first.

"Merlin, this is delicious!"

He laughed, and seeing his smile, bright and honest, Arthur found himself smiling too.

x~xXx~x

It didn't take too long for Arthur to figure out how to use the internet. He still wasn't entirely sure how it worked or what a cookie was or why people showed strangers their food or faces, but he could kind of maneuver his way around the world wide web now. He was currently reading some website about the brief history of the world.

"How's it going?" Merlin asked him after a few hours had passed. He stretched, his shoulders and back cracking loudly.

"Not bad. There's a lot of information though," he admitted.

"Here." Merlin opened a new tab and typed in YouTube into the top search bar. "Sometimes when I need a break, I just watch some videos. I like this one, it's a funny animal compilation one."

The segment involved a very fat cat as its first video.

"I don't think cats are supposed to be that big," Arthur said, though he couldn't help laughing as it attempted to catch the string dangled in front of it.

Merlin laughed too, shifting closer to him. "Oh, man, this next one is my favorite, watch what happens when he—oh my god!"

The next ten minutes were spent in laughter, watching animal after animal attempt to jump, climb, or speak.

"That was great, Merlin." Arthur wiped the tears from his eyes.

"I'm going to have to get you your own laptop," Merlin decided. "We can add that to the list. Would you be up for going tomorrow?"

"Sure," he said, not really feeling sure. "When do you go back to work again?"

"Monday. So, three days from now."

Arthur frowned. "That's really soon."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be able to fill your time with things. There's loads of things to do now."

"Right." Arthur glanced at the videos on the sidebar. One of them was a man holding a sword. He pointed at the picture. "Is there anything like that? I'd like to keep on in fighting fit shape."

"That's actually a trailer for a movie. But," he added quickly, "There's plenty of gyms around. We can look at some tomorrow too."

"I suppose that's better than nothing," Arthur mused aloud. His stomach put in its own input.

Laughing, Merlin asked, "Hungry?"

"Well, obviously." Arthur set the laptop down on the table. "Teach me something to cook," he said. "Something good."

They ended up making spaghetti and meatballs. It was messy, but quite delicious.

"Hey, will you be okay on your own for about an hour?" Merlin asked after lunch. "I've got to go get my car. You can come with if you want."

Arthur made a face. He was still wearing his pajamas and even though he wasn't a king anymore, he refused to leave the house without looking presentable. Plus, he wanted to continue reading the history on Merlin's laptop. And a small part of him wasn't ready to go back out yet. Here, in Merlin's cozy house, everything was new, but it was contained. He didn't want to go back out where the new was loud and in his face.

"No, I'll stay here. Thanks, though."

Merlin nodded in understanding. "No worries. See you soon."

He left, getting in a car that he'd had come pick him up from his phone. Arthur wasn't sure how that worked either, just that it did somehow. He'd only been left alone for about fifteen minutes when a loud ring echoed throughout the house. It came from the front door.

Cautiously, he opened it to see a young couple about his and Merlin's age. They didn't look very friendly. The part of his brain still stuck in Camelot's time whispered, Sorcerers, but he shushed it. Still, there was something untrustworthy about them.

"Hello?" he asked hesitantly.

"I told you," the woman said, not bothering to keep her voice down. "There's a man living here!"

"Actually, this is Merlin's house. He's my friend."

"Friend," the man repeated, his voice scathing. "I'm sure."

Arthur paused. He wasn't a king anymore; he had no need to be civil. "Okay, goodbye."

"Oh, no you don't!" the man yelled, putting his foot in the door. "We have children, ya know."

"Congratulations," Arthur deadpanned.

"We don't want them around your kind," the woman sneered. "So, tell your 'friend' to move."

"Our kind?" Arthur wondered what on earth they could've meant. Merlin said no one believed in magic anymore. Could he have been wrong?

"The gays!" the woman hissed.

"Fucking abominations, every single one of you," the man added. "The Bible says so, you know."

Arthur's mouth dropped. These people thought he and Merlin were…together? He'd only been back for a few days! How could they come to that conclusion so quickly? What on earth could they have seen for them to have jumped to such a conclusion?

But then anger settled in his stomach. No, fury. Rage. These people thought it was bad that two people could love each other. Wrong that Merlin love anyone other than a woman. They wanted him to leave the neighborhood, for fuck's sake!

"Oh, I do apologize," he drawled, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. He might not be a king anymore, but he still knew how to behave like one, speak like one. Firm, yet poised. Flattering, yet deadly. "I didn't realize I was in the presence of royalty." He gave a mock bow. "I'm new to this kingdom, and I had no idea of the rules you made for all us peasants."

"Um…" The man looked at his wife, who was just as stiff and uncomfortable as he was.

Arthur continued, waving his hand, "I wasn't aware your attire here is one of commoners and miscreants, and that your beliefs are ungodly. My mistake."

"M-Miscreants?" the wife sputtered.

"Ungodly?" The man touched his chest, aghast. "How dare you accuse us—"

"No, how dare you," Arthur hissed. "You're parading around as if you spoke the law. As if you were prophets for your god. I know your kind. Taking on the image of doing your lord's work just to sprout lies and treachery. My friend has every right to be here as you do. No, he has more. He's never told you to leave the neighborhood. Never harmed your children. You are the ones harming them, teaching them to hate instead of love. Isn't that what your religion teaches? Love? Well, where is it?"

The man's face was beat red, his fists clenched. "You, fucking faggot!"

"You can't talk to us that way!" his wife shouted.

Arthur saw the punch coming from miles away. Easily avoiding the swing, he quickly put the man in a headlock.

"Did you seriously just try to attack me?" he asked, genuinely amused.

"Let go of my husband!" the woman screeched.

"Let him go," another voice said. It was an older woman, walking up to them slowly, cane in hand. Arthur let go immediately.

"Oh, Mrs. Kance, I'm so glad to see you, this man here is—"

"Shut the fuck up, sweetie," the older woman—Mrs. Kance—said, smiling. "You two, off this property, before I call the cops. Harassing this poor boy, you should be ashamed of yourselves."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest—he was not a boy—but even as a prince he was taught to respect the wise words of his elders, and this woman seemed beyond wise. And not just because she had told the couple to "shut the fuck up," though that did help her case. He closed his mouth, licking his lips.

"H-Harassing? We were not—!"

"Mrs. Henderson," Mrs. Kance said, her voice thin. "Take you husband and go. Now."

The couple stayed a moment longer, before turning on their heels and storming off, muttering. Arthur could hear a few choice words, but Mrs. Kance's hand on his arm stopped him from yelling back at them.

"What's your name, dear?"

"Arthur," he said, mouth dry. "I'm Merlin's friend."

"What a sweet boy, that Merlin. He's so kind. Too kind sometimes." She shook her head. "Well, I suppose I'll be going now. Don't you worry about them, I think I've scared them off." With a wink, she shuffled around, ready to head back to whichever house was hers.

The sudden thought of being all alone to processes what the hell had just happened seemed daunting. "A-Actually, Mrs., uh, Mrs. Kance. If you want, you can come inside. There's a pot of coffee still half full."

Turning back around, she smiled. "I'm more of a tea drinker myself, but thank you, Arthur. I would love to come in."

Shuffling into the house, she headed straight for the kitchen. "Merlin keeps a bag of my favorite candies, right up there, for whenever I visit. Can you get them for me please?"

Arthur opened the top cabinet, grabbing a box featuring small chocolates filled with cherry and…rum?

"Are you sure these are it?"

Mrs. Kance laughed as she settled down at the kitchen table. "Oh, yes, I'm sure. How long have you known Merlin?"

"Uh, a very long time, actually. But I…I, um, only recently…came back. To him."

"Ah." There was a knowing glint in her eyes. It made Arthur feel safe, like he could trust this woman with all his secrets, with his life even, and she'd protect them as if his secrets were hers, his life was her own. Leaning back, she smiled, her eyes looking far off in the distance. "It was the same for me and my wife."

He hoped his face didn't show just how shocked he felt. "Your wife?"

"Yes, Lareina. She died several years ago though. You know, I'm almost ninety-three."

"I had no idea," he said honestly.

"Oh, you flatter me." Mrs. Kance laughed. "We knew each other when we were young. We loved each other then, but we didn't realize what we'd felt for each other was more than the love you feel for your friends. I didn't grow up in the most gay-friendly times, you know."

Arthur nodded, though he wasn't exactly sure how unfriendly the times were. He hadn't reached that moment in the general history article yet.

"It was only when we separated to for university that I realized what it was I felt for her." She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "I found myself writing Lareina and Kellie Kance everywhere, and that's how I knew."

"Did you go to her? When you realized, I mean."

With a dejected sigh, she said, "No…"

"Oh…"

She smirked. "She came to me. The day of her marriage."

"Oh!"

"Left him right at the alter! She showed up at my doorstep, still wearing her wedding dress, despite having driven almost 200 miles. Confessed what she felt and, well, let's just say that I was the one who experienced the honeymoon, not the Alejandro guy, or whatever his name was."

Arthur found himself blushing. "I'm glad you two found each other."

Mrs. Kance nodded. "Me too. And I'm glad you found Merlin. He's a good boy. And you seem like a very decent fellow."

"Oh, uh, actually," and now he was blushing even harder, "Merlin and I aren't together like that. We're just friends."

Her eyebrow raised. "Is that so?"

"He has his eyes on someone else, anyway."

She hummed, not sounding convinced. "Do you know who?"

"No," he shook his head. "All I know is that it's a man."

The room grew quiet. Needing to do something, but unsure what, he reached for one of the chocolates. The liquid gushed out in his mouth, surprising him, but not as much as the strong flavor of alcohol. He was about to reach for another when Mrs. Kance spoke again.

"You've been married."

His eyes went wide. "How did you know?"

"Your hand. There's a tan line on your wedding ring finger."

Looking down, Arthur saw that there was indeed a line. He rubbed at it, wishing it wasn't there.

"Yes, I was…" he said slowly, letting the memories of his past life resurfacing. "To a woman. Her name was Gwen, Guinevere, but she's…she's dead now."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Mrs. Kance said, sincerely.

He wanted to tell her that it was okay, that it happened a long time ago. He wanted to tell her that it was very recent and he wasn't sure if he was okay. He wanted to tell her how confused this new world made him and how he kept pushing down certain memories just to continue focusing on the present without feeling like he was losing his mind. He wanted to tell her about Merlin.

Instead, he said, "It's not fair."

"What's not fair, dear?"

The words spilled out of him without pause. "What those people said. About Merlin. About you. It's not right. I've known people like them. They condemn those different from them while ignoring, or even applauding, having consorts or mistresses… My own father told me to have a multitude of consorts while growing up. A king should show the people his richness and power in many ways, he'd said. I'd never wanted that. Never even thought about that until Mer—" he cut himself off. "It's not right for people to control who others love."

"What's going on in here?"

Arthur jumped at the sound of Merlin voice.

"Merlin! When did you get back?" He frantically went over what he'd just said. He was going to be sick.

"Just now. You said something about it not being right for others to control love. What on earth are you two talking about? And how do you even know each other?"

Mrs. Kance smiled, standing up to greet Merlin with a hug. "Oh, you should've seen your friend here, Merlin. What a brave soul. Standing up to the Harrisons about their bigoted ways. You should've seen the way he told them off for acting like homophobic royalty."

"You did that?" he asked, looking at Arthur in awe. Arthur smiled embarrassedly.

"Yes, it was quite heroic," she continued, recanting the tale merrily. "And he put him in a headlock! I haven't been that entertained since you took me to that art and alcohol place." She leaned in closer to Arthur. "Your friend here's the biggest lightweight I've ever seen, and I'm almost a hundred; I've seen a lot of lightweights."

Arthur laughed. "Well, some things never change, I suppose."

"Hey!" But Merlin was smiling, a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

"You have a good friend in this Arthur," Mrs. Kance said, patting Merlin's hand. "Good friends are hard to come by. Keep him."

"I—No, we're not—He's not—" they both stuttered out, but she just laughed.

"You two remind me of me and my Lareina. Now, Merlin, be a dear and help me to my house. I have to feed Kuzo her daily treats."

Merlin quickly offered his arm and shuffled out of his house with her, smiling brightly and asking about the latest cat-shenanigans Kuzo has gotten up to. Arthur watched them leave, feeling…something. He wasn't sure what. It was happiness. A bit of embarrassment. And…sadness. He was sad. Why the hell was he sad?

Sitting at the table, with only three chocolates left in the box, was where Merlin found Arthur about ten minutes later.

"Hey, Arthur, how do you feel about cats, because Kuzo is preg—are you okay?"

Arthur didn't look up. "I don't understand, Merlin."

He sat down. "Understand what?"

With a sigh, Arthur hunched over. "A lot of things. Why I'm back from the dead. Why Gwaine is the only reincarnation alive in the world. And the world… The world is so different. There's Twitter and YouTube and all these fun, wonderful things, but there's also the Harrisons. There's also so much hate still. I don't understand how magic could've died out, but hate still lives on, and…" he paused.

"And?" Merlin prompted softly.

"…And…I don't understand…why you can't die."

Merlin's eyes immediately went downcast and his face was shadowed by some memory he wasn't telling Arthur. Maybe would never tell Arthur. The silence lasted longer than he expected, but he didn't speak up. Even if Merlin wouldn't tell him, he wasn't going to be the one to change the subject.

But then Merlin always did manage to surprise him.

Slowly, he took a deep breath. "I…I don't know that either," he admitted, quietly. His eyes stayed staring down at the table. "After you…you died…I just stopped aging. Gwen noticed it first. I thought she was just joking…but then…" he shuddered and Arthur reached for one of Merlin's hands without thinking. Instead of pulling away, Merlin held on tightly.

"I was walking through the forest to restock my herbal supply…Gaius was dead at this point…and these men just ambushed me. I wasn't paying any attention to my surroundings and then suddenly they'd dropped from the trees and slit my throat."

"What?" Arthur breathed out, eyes wide. Merlin shrugged, seemingly unaffected by his narrative. Except his voice was devoid of animation. Arthur knew him well enough that if something was seriously bothering him, he would pretend it wasn't.

"I woke up hours later, naked and covered in blood. But I was alive." He sighed. "I thought it was a fluke at first. Something must've happened that I just couldn't remember. But then Gwen died. And Leon. Percival. Everyone. I was alone and magic was a whisper, but I still looked so young. So, I…" he licked his lips. "I tested my theory. And I couldn't die. My best guess is my magic prevents me from dying. Maybe because of the prophecy. Maybe not. I don't know."

It took all of Arthur's strength not to throw the table between them away and…shake him? hug him? yell at him? Perhaps all three. Not necessarily in that order.

"Merlin," he started slowly, his voice thick. Oh gods, he wasn't about to cry, no, nope, he was absolutely not about to cry. "You said that you thought…you thought you couldn't die…"

"It didn't seem possible. Not even with my magic," he whispered, not getting at what Arthur was implying.

He tried again. "So, then, when you…when you tested your…theory…you didn't expect to wake up again…did you?"

"O-Oh…" Merlin took a shaky breath. "No… No, I didn't…but I did."

Hot tears slid down Arthur's face, but he didn't make any move to stop them.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked in alarm. "Are you okay?"

"No," he whispered, sounding as broken as he felt. "My best friend was alone and wanted to die and I couldn't do anything to be there for him, I couldn't be there for years, and now he has nightmares he doesn't tell me about, or doesn't trust me with, I don't know which—" fuck, he was babbling, he knew his was babbling, but he couldn't stop "—and there's some sort of prophecy that involves us, but we don't know what to do and I don't know what to do, this world is so fucking big and different and—"

Suddenly, Merlin and his own tear-streaked face was standing in front of him, grabbing his arm and pulling him up into a hug. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Arthur, I—"

"Why are you sorry?" he sobbed, holding Merlin tightly, afraid this would be his only chance to be this close to him. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"I shouldn't have—last night—I should've—I—"

He couldn't finish, his voice giving out as he cried, but Arthur didn't think he could even start another sentence. They stood for a long while, holding each other and crying, whispering apologies when they could, burring their faces in the other's shoulder when they couldn't. Finally, they pulled apart.

"I haven't cried like that in a long time," Merlin admitted quietly.

"Me neither…"

They both laughed at that, the sound mixed between a broken record and a child's giggle. With a quirk of his lips, Merlin lead them to the living room. They sat on the couch, knees touching.

"The world kept moving on," he said after taking a deep, shaky breath. "Eventually, I realized I couldn't just stay at Lake Avalon and do nothing. Even though magic was almost gone, I could still help people. Save people. And I was going insane waiting for you, doing nothing."

"You were always helping people," Arthur remembered. "It's who you are. It's one of the things I…" love "…admire about you."

Merlin blinked. For a moment, Arthur could've sworn Merlin knew what he'd meant to say, but all too soon, Merlin was speaking again, the moment gone.

"For a long time, I wanted to…to join you," he admitted. "You and Gwen. Lance, Gwaine, Leon, everyone. And I…"

Arthur reached for Merlin's hands, holding them tightly.

"But I'm not there anymore. That dark spot," he clarified. "I was for a long time, and sometimes the nightmares are…really bad…but I don't want to kill myself anymore. Haven't for a long time, to be honest."

It took all of Arthur's strength not to crawl into Merlin's lap and kiss him. Kiss him until he forgot his own name.

"What do you dream about," he asked instead.

Merlin frowned slightly as Arthur's grip tightened at an almost unbearably level, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he said, "It depends. Sometimes it's the wars. Sometimes it's Camelot. Sometimes it's you."

That was surprising. "Me?"

"Yeah…" He smiled, but he looked like he was about to cry. "The times you almost died. When you did die."

"Oh…" Right…

His smile turned to a smirk. "Or the times you were being an absolute prat."

"Oi!" Arthur gently punched his arm. "You were a right clotpole at times too!"

"That's my word!" But he was laughing. He was happy.

And Arthur was too. Almost.

His stomach growled. Merlin paused, eyes wide, then he let out another loud bark of laughter.

"Come on, let's make dinner," he said, grabbing Arthur's hand and pulling him up. "I'm thinking seafood tonight."

Arthur grinned, "Sounds great."

0~xXx~0

Merlin woke up early in the morning to a heat he wasn't used to…but desperately wished he could be. Sometime in the night, Arthur began spooning him. Almost like the night before. Almost. This time, it was… Well, Merlin could feel Arthur's nose on his neck, his chest flush against his back, his legs tangled with his own, his hands under his shirt, flat on his stomach…

"I'm so fucked," he whispered to himself. Still, he didn't leave yet. Once they bought the bigger mattress, this wouldn't happen again. (Maybe… No, stop, don't give yourself hope, it'll only hurt more in the end.) Plus, he didn't want to face the last of his papers.

Last night, after dinner, which was shrimp gumbo, the two of them had stayed up a little longer, Arthur reading more history while he continued grading his student's homework. They'd stayed on the couch, their sides almost pressed as closely together and they are right now.

If only they could stay like this…

But they couldn't.

Distracting himself, he starting making a list of what they needed to buy. Queen mattress. Laptop for Arthur. Cellphone for Arthur. More gas in his car. Look at some gyms. Probably should get another dresser for Arthur's clothes…or just drop some of his clothes off at his storage.

Shit.

Sure, he might've been alive since around 500 CE (he wasn't really paying attention to the years back then), but he was still completely helpless at taking things apart and putting things together with even his magic, let alone with his hands. With a groan, he reached for his phone, careful not to jostle Arthur.

Merlin [7:24 AM]: Think you'll be able to come over before your shift today?

Merlin [7:24 AM]: I'm getting a bigger mattress for Arthur and I, and maybe a dresser too

Merlin [7:24 AM]: So, your help will be much appreciated :)

Merlin [7:26 AM]: But it's also okay if you can't! No pressure!

He didn't expect an answer for a few more hours. Except three little dots bubbled on the screen…

TC [7:29 AM]: okaY b there at 4ish

Merlin [7:30 AM]: Thanks!

Merlin [7:30 AM]: Why are you awake?

TC [7:32 AM]: Forgot to silence phone

TC [7:32 AM]: An ur txt tone is still that weird chime thing

TC [7:32 AM]: Scared the shit outta me

Merlin [7:33 AM]: Sorry about that :(

Merlin [7:33 AM]: Turn your phone on silent and go back to bed

TC [7:33 AM]: That's the plan Magic Merls

Merlin [7:34 AM]: Is that seriously still my name in your phone?

TC [Read at 7:34 AM]

Merlin huffed, but didn't push it. Drink too much in a club with a stripper pole one time…

At 8 AM, Merlin finally removed himself from Arthur's embrace. He tried not to think too much into it when he quietly moaned and gripped at the sheets where Merlin's warm body used to be. He tried not to think too much at all.

The shower washed away Arthur's warmth from his being.

He tried not to think about it.

x~xXx~x

"Okay, this isn't bad," Arthur admitted, laying on the mattress.

"Finally," Merlin groaned, collapsing on the mattress. It was, indeed, very comfortable. They'd spent all morning at the electronics store, looking at laptops and phones. Merlin had forgotten just how many types of laptops there were, and Arthur, in true Arthur fashion, wanted to test out every. single. one. of them. Eventually, he settled on one similar to Merlin's, but slightly bigger. That had been nothing compared to finding a phone for him though.

At first, Arthur had been adamant about getting a phone that was exactly like Merlin's, but then when he saw just how many types there were and how each type was different to the one next to it, unlike the laptops, and he got distracted by it all. And, of course, he wanted to test out each and every phone. After almost two hours, he settled on the newest iPhone.

"Can I call you now?" Arthur asked excitedly once they were in the car.

"I'm right here, you don't need to call me," Merlin teased back.

"Oh, come on, Merlin!"

He hadn't heard his name used like that in so long, something twisted in his heat. "Okay, fine. Just one sec, I need too…" Grabbing for the phone, he held it between the palms of his hands and whispered, "ālīef."

"…What did you do?"

Smirking, he replied, "Now you can make any call or text without a SIM card. Don't even need WiFi or a cell tower either."

"Uh…I'm not sure of any of those words, but thank you."

That was all in the morning. They'd even managed to get a small dresser, no sweat. Even looking at gyms had been easy compared to this! It was now well-after when they were going to get lunch, and this was the fourth mattress store they'd been to.

Laying like this, Merlin tried not to gulp. They were still pretty close, but now they had room at both edges to turn without falling off the bed.

"Wonderful!" the sales girl exclaimed, clapping her hands. "How would you like it delivered?"

"I don't think it'll fit in my car…or above it," he admitted, sitting up. He tried to still his beating heart.

"I can arrange for our movers to bring it to you." She checked the iPad in her hands. "You're in luck! We can have it sent to your address by five, would that be alright?"

He grinned. "Yeah, that's perfect, thank you."

x~xXx~x

Merlin looked at his room, which was now a complete mess. He'd picked a large pile of clothes to put in his storage, gotten rid of all the sheets from his (soon-to-be) old bed, and had rearrange the room about four times trying to fit in Arthur's new dresser.

"I'm so glad we ate before doing this," Arthur groaned, flopped on the naked mattress. "But I think I ate too much."

He chuckled fondly. "I told you to slow down."

"What can I say, the Chinese have excellent food."

Merlin rolled his eyes; that's what he'd said about the breakfast food the other day too. Rather than remind him of that, he said instead, "Okay, I'm going to take these clothes to my storage. Want to join me?"

Arthur frowned. "Isn't TC going to be here soon? Someone should stay here and wait for him."

"It'll be really quick, I promise." Merlin held out his hand. "And it'll be really cool."

"Storage is cool?" Arthur muttered in disbelief, but he reached out and took Merlin's hand.

With a flash of golden eyes, they disappeared.

"Oh, shit," Arthur breathed, looking around at their new surroundings. "Where are we?"

"My storage." Merlin laughed. "I told you it would be cool."

The place they were in was massive, and the walls were littered with pictures and art and other hanging knickknacks. The floor was filled with rows upon rows of stuff. Books, clothes, furniture, weapons… All meticulously organized by the time period he'd used it in, and then by what it was and how important it had been to him.

"We're in a sort of…pocket dimension," he explained, walking towards the wall covered in weapons. "Nothing here will ever fade or fall apart or degrade in any other way."

"That's amaz—oh, gods," Arthur chocked out, eyes wide.

There, in Merlin's pale hands, was his sword. Excalibur.

"When you didn't walk out of the lake with it, I was worried it was lost forever somehow, but no, it actually ended up here. I checked yesterday morning while you were sleeping."

Gingerly, Arthur picked it up. Still perfectly balanced. Gods, how he missed it.

"How did it end up here?"

There was a twinkle in Merlin's eye as he grinned. With a shrug, he suggested, "Magic?"

Arthur laughed, gently touching the blade. It was sharper than it had ever been before. It shone brighter too.

"I…I can't take this back, can I?" he asked quietly, realization dawning on him.

"No." Merlin put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Not yet, at least. But who knows with the prophecy and all though. Maybe you'll need it later."

Arthur didn't want to think about that. Gently, he set Excalibur down. "Right…"

"Ready to go?" He held his hand back out.

Arthur took it, nodding. "Yeah. Let's go home, Merlin."

Merlin's heart fluttered violently at his words.

With another flash of gold, they reappeared back in Merlin's room, just in time to hear the doorbell ring. Quickly, Merlin rushed to the front door.

"Hey," TC said, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm here to help with bed stuff?"

Laughing, Merlin pulled him inside.

With the hour, just as the movers arrived, Merlin's old mattress was resting by the door next to the dismantled pieces of the old bed frame, while the new bed frame was finally ready and waiting for the new mattress. Arthur and Merlin had moved the old mattress as TC dismantled the bed frame. After accidently dropping a piece on his foot twice, TC banned Merlin from doing any more "helping." He then had to ban Arthur too since he had no idea what any of TC's instructions meant. By the end, the most helpful thing they did for TC was letting the movers in and directing where the bedroom was.

"And we're done!" TC announced ten minutes later, throwing the pillows on the finished bed. "Let's celebrate with a beer!"

Merlin grinned, looking around the room. Yeah, it did look good. And seeing his and Arthur's stuff together was really—shit, no, no, no, stop it. He quickly exited the room, not allowing that train of thought to finish.

"Damn, Merlin, you need more beer," TC complained, grabbing the last few bottles out of the fridge.

"I thought you worked tonight, should you really be drinking before your shift?"

He shrugged. "One beer is fine. Here, Arthur try it."

Taking the bottle, Arthur sniffed it uncertainly. "Does is taste the same as it used to?"

"Not a clue." He turned to Merlin, raising his eyebrows.

"Honestly, I don't remember." Merlin sighed. "I didn't think to use magic to help retain my memories until after the tenth century."

TC tsked, rolling his eyes, but Arthur frowned. It looked like he wanted to ask more, but Merlin quickly interrupted.

"It's fine, Arthur. I remember the important bits. Try the beer, and tell us if it's better or not."

He wasn't going to drop it, Merlin could tell, but Arthur conceded for now, shrugged, and sipped it.

"Well?" TC asked.

"…It's better," he admitted quietly.

Pumping his fist in the air, TC shouted, "Yes!"

"Just wait until you try cocktails," Merlin said. "Those are way better than beer."

"Oh, Merlin, you wound me," TC complained playfully, putting his hand over his heart. "How could you betray me like this?" After a moment's pause, they busted out laughing. They'd had this conversations thousands of times already, each one ending in the same melodramatic flare.

About an hour later, after they'd moved their celebration to the living room and had put on some Queen to teach Arthur about one of the greatest bands in history, there was a knock on the door. Merlin went to open it, his smile fading as he saw who was behind the door.

"What do you think you're doing," Mr. Harrison asked, his arms crossed.

"Greg, Sunsan. My friends and I are just—"

"An orgy!" Mrs. Harrison fumed at Merlin. "First you bring your boyfriend to live with you, and now you're having a gay orgy!"

"I… There's just three of here," Merlin began, but they didn't let him continue.

"I though you were a nice boy," she griped. "We let you babysit our kids! And now you're here living in sin and perversion and, and—"

"And having a gay orgy!" Mr. Harrison boomed.

"Gay!" she emphasized, her hands flailing.

TC and Arthur walked up behind Merlin, both frowning. Even before they turned down the music, they could hear the commotion.

"An orgy?" TC repeated, arms crossed over his shoulder. He looked every bit like the solider he was. "Merlin, why didn't you tell me, I'd have taken off my clothes. And invited some more friends."

"How dare you!" Mrs. Harrison shouted. "How dare you bring this to our neighborhood!"

Merlin tried again: "Susan, we're not having an orgy."

"Don't talk to my wife that way, faggot!" Mr. Harrison banged his fist against the side of the house.

"And don't think that Mrs. Kance will come to your rescue this time, boy!" Mrs. Harrison continued. "She's with her son—"

"Are you two," Arthur interrupted, his hands curled into fists, "Really such cowards that you had to wait for an elderly woman to leave the neighborhood in order for you to bully my Merlin?"

Merlin blinked at that. 'My Merlin'?

"You can't have disgusting lives here in this neighborhood, we won't allow—"

Mrs. Harrison stopped talking. Mr. Harrison choked on his spit. TC gasped.

But all Merlin could focus on was the feel of Arthur on his lips. Arthur's arms wrapped around his waist and Arthur's hands kneading the flesh of his ass. Within moments, his arms began moving on their own accord, snaking up to be fisted in Arthur's golden locks. His mouth opened, allowing Arthur to slide his tongue in.

Finally, Arthur pulled his lips away and glared at the gaping couple. He kept his body flush against Merlin's.

"I hope you enjoyed the free show. Now, go the fuck away and leave us alone," he gritted out, slamming the door in their faces.

The silence was blissful. Arthur still didn't let go.

Suddenly, "Holy shit, Arthur, that was awesome!" TC looked like he'd just won the lottery."I gotta say, I would've never expected that from you, but, fuck, you just shut them right the hell up, didn't you! Serves them right, the fuckers; way to go Arthur!"

Stepping away, Merlin added, "That really was great thinking, Arthur." He hoped his face wasn't as red as he felt it was.

There was a flush on Arthur's own face, but he shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. "They weren't letting you talk, Merlin."

TC wouldn't stop talking about it, even as he was walking towards his motorcycle half an hour later.

"I'm telling everyone how much of a badass you are, Arthur!" he shouted. "Everyone!"

"Is that a good thing?" he asked Merlin as they waved goodbye.

"Honestly…I have no idea." Merlin glanced at the Harrison's house, but he didn't see any sign of them. "TC knows a lot of soldiers though, so I suppose it's a high honor to be called a badass to them."

Arthur frowned. "You've been a solider too."

"Yeah, but…" He bit his lip, trying not to remember how Arthur had bit it not even an hour ago. "It's different. I've seen more wars than anyone ever has or ever will."

0~xXx~0

Arthur couldn't stop thinking about it. He messed up peeling potatoes twice, which, seriously, sure, he never peeled potatoes before, but how the heck did he mess up twice?

Well, he knew how. He knew exactly how.

After dinner, he decided, was when he would apologize.

His stomach was tied in so many knots, he could barely eat the steak and fries.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Merlin asked, sitting down beside him on the couch. "You were very quiet at dinner."

"I…" he cleared his throat. "I shouldn't have kissed you without asking you first, Merlin. I know there's someone else you want to be with and I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

Merlin's face did something, but Arthur wasn't entirely sure what. Was it disgust, remembering how Arthur had basically molested him in front of other people? Yes, that's probably what it was.

And yet, he said, "It's okay, Arthur. Really, I'm completely okay that you did that. Did you see the Harrison's faces? Totally worth it…" Merlin bit his lip, and all Arthur wanted to do was push him down and kiss him all over again. "Plus, it was…nice…" he added quietly, his lips curled in a faint smile.

"It…was?"

"I mean, yeah…" he cleared his throat. "Not many people can say they've been kissed by a king."

Arthur, not realizing that Merlin had failed at being cheesy, thought his strangled voice meant he was uncomfortable. He tried to apologize again.

"But that's just it, Merlin, I was a king! I should've known better than to just do that, it wasn't kingly at all, and just because I want something doesn't mean I should just take it, so I'm really, really—"

"You wanted to kiss me?" Merlin asked breathlessly.

"I…" Arthur replayed his words in his head, and fuck, yeah, he admitted to that, didn't he? Fuck, he's completely ruined their friendships, now, hasn't he? Fuck, fuck, fuck—

"Arthur?" His blue eyes were incredibly wide. He shifted closer.

"Yeah," he finally admitted softly. "I've wanted to kiss you for a very long—"

Surging forward, Merlin cut him off, pressing his lips back to Arthur's. His hands cupped Arthur's face.

And it was so good. Amazing, really. The way Merlin's mouth opened and his breath hitched and his legs swung over so he was straddling Arthur…

Unfortunately, there was only one problem.

"But," Arthur gasped, hating to pull away, but needing to understand. "The other guy? You said you liked—"

"It was you," Merlin said quickly. "Always you. It was you, Arthur."

"…Me?" he repeated dumbly.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes, you dollophead. You."

Grinning, Arthur twisted them, so that Merlin was pinned against the couch.

"Me," he said again, laughing. He leaned down, kissing Merlin again. And again. And again. When he pulled back, resting his forehead against Merlin's, he whispered, "Can I tell you something?"

Merlin smiled, his hands resting against Arthur's neck. "Always."

"That day, when I…died. I told you something. Something that wasn't exactly true."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

Arthur paused, pulling back slightly to watch Merlin's face closely; he needed to say this right. "I said to you that I was going to tell you something I've never done before…but I chickened out."

"You told me, 'Thank you,'" Merlin remembered. "But you'd said that me that before. Not often, mind you, but you had."

"What I mean to say was," he took a deep breath. "I love you."

Merlin's mouth dropped. "You…?"

"I think I had for a long time, but I didn't realize it until I was dying. Gods, I really was a clot—"

He was cut off by Merlin's lips; a truly wonderful way to be interrupted.

"I love you too," he gasped. "Arthur, I love you too."

When they left the couch, hours later with lips raw and red, they settled on their new bed, pressed against each other, not wanting to be apart ever again.