Note: Written for kinkme_merlin on livejounal for the prompt: arthur gets hit by a car and put into a coma for a few weeks or months and wakes up to dr. merlin emrys
At first, Merlin hadn't been paying much attention, not to his face. He had been preoccupied with the broken bones, the internal bleeding, and the head wound that was gushing blood. This was why Merlin didn't trust cars, why he walked to work every day or took the Underground.
Gwen set to work on the head wound: a three inch cut across the brow, presumably caused when the poor man's face smashed into his steering wheel. Gwen did the best stitch work Merlin had seen: quick and efficient. In the background, Will rattled off blood pressure and heart rate and held up a silver chain that had come from around the man's neck.
Merlin grabbed the medical alert pendant and glanced at it. Bloody hell, of course the poor bloke would be anemic. He was losing blood fast, they needed to get him on an IV and soon.
"Where the hell is Gaius?" he shouted, "I need him."
The chief surgeon was bursting into the room just seconds later, just as Gwen was searching out a strong vein. "What do we have?"
"He's got internal bleeding. I'm guessing his spleen is ruptured."
Will helped Giaus pull on a pair of gloves, Gwen handed Merlin a scalpel, and Merlin set to work.
They saved his life, but only just. Merlin's patient still slipped into a coma, and it was hard to tell when he would wake up. If he ever did.
He had been stitched back up, his blood cleared away, and set to rest in a private room. Merlin slipped into the room to check on his vitals and for the first time, he truly looked upon his patient.
His face was badly bruised. Though the cut was hidden behind a stark white bandage, the swelling was still obvious and the bruising crept down, blackening one eye. His hair had been washed and what Merlin had once mistaken as strawberry blonde was now as golden as fresh straw. Merlin reached out and brushed the shaggy locks away from his face, cocking his head to the side.
It hit him all at once. Arthur. This was Arthur.
He sagged, falling into a nearby chair, and stared in dismay at his once king.
"By the Gods," he choked out, "What were you thinking?"
He knew, of course, what had brought his patient to him. Drunk driving and causing a three-car pileup usually landed one in the hospital, after all. He couldn't believe that his king had been so stupid.
"Bloody prat," Merlin gasped as he broke down, sobs tearing from his throat helplessly. "You better wake up. You better wake up."
It took four months, two weeks, six days, and nine hours, but Arthur awoke.