Hey, sorry there have been no updates in a while. Have a Merlin fic!
This was beta'd by the amazing binglejells over at lj, she's such a doll. Before we start I wanna make a few points. 1) This is an extremely depressing deathfic. 2) The funeral. I've been told that in England the priest usually officiates over the entire thing. The funeral I portray comes from direct knowledge, I've modeled it after my grandma's because it is one I can remember quite well and can describe details from. Please, if you have to comment on the funeral process itself, don't be harsh. This fic ties into my experiences and as such does hurt a little. That's it, so without further ado here's Angels on the Moon.
-------
"Years, following years, steal something every day; At last they steal us from ourselves away." -Horace.
How did all this happen? It was too soon, it was too sudden. Merlin walked slowly up to the casket. It had been raining, he had been happy. Why did the rain have to stop? The man in the coffin was silent. He was never silent, it wasn't like him. He liked to talk and to laugh. He was always moving. The motionless shell wasn't him.
"We should sit down, honey," a woman whispered to him. He knew the woman as his mother, but the knowledge didn't register beyond a glimmer. Merlin felt her tug on his elbow and he let her lead him away. She sat him in a seat in the front row. The funeral home was filled and Merlin felt claustrophobic. The low ceilings lent to the atmosphere of compactness, making the room itself feel like a coffin. He tried not to think about what it would feel like to be buried alive, or at all when a woman with black hair sat next to him, tears in her eyes. Morgana looked lost and confused. Unconsciously Merlin took her hand in his and held it. She looked at him with gratitude and weary agony written on her face. He picked up their entwined hands and kissed them for comfort. Merlin didn't know if he could survive this, he had always had him in his life. Now he was gone and Merlin had lost his rudder. He felt more like a robot than a person.
A man stood up at the podium in front of the pictures of the man in the coffin. Merlin refused to even think his name, knowing that if he did he'd have to acknowledge that he was actually gone and never coming back. He couldn't.
"Please, let us say a prayer." The man's voice was low and soothing, but to Merlin grating and frustrating. Everyone in the room bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Morgana held their hands up to fit perfectly in between their sagging shoulders.
"Dear God in heaven, our dear son has joined You in Your loving arms and we are bereft. That one such as he should join You so soon, when his life had only just begun is a tragedy beyond comparison. We ask that You protect our fallen brother and keep him dear to You in the comforting circle of Your arms. Our beloved son did not die in vain, we have learned the lessons he fought so hard to protect." Merlin flinched. It was his fault, he wasn't fast enough. Maybe if he had gotten there faster, he would still be alive.
"We are like sheep under Your watchful gaze and in comfort we sleep, knowing that You will forever watch over us. In these difficult times these thoughts comfort us as we struggle to prove to ourselves that we are human. We are strong and we respond to our conscious. This brave man that we mourn was the most human of us all. He fought for the right to live, not for himself but for someone else. He stood up for what You have told us is right and we are proud of him. To be like him, we step a little closer to being like you. Amen." The man stepped back away from the podium and slipped quietly out of the room as whispers of Amen floated around the room.
Uther stood up and stiffly strode over to the podium, taking the priest's place. Merlin had not talked to him since the death. He slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket and rubbed wearily at his face.
"This man," he began quietly, "he always believed in doing the right thing. If something was wrong, he tried to fix it. It was only he and I for a long time, and I'll admit I wasn't the best to him. He made me proud, though. Constantly proving that he was smart, that he was happy. He always called me on Sundays before coming over." The man looked at the pictures behind him of the smiling, laughing man. Merlin saw his chin tremble for a moment before a mask slipped over his face.
"It was impossible not to like him, he had that sort of personality. He knew what he wanted out of life and refused to stop until he got it." Uther stopped talking—thinking, perhaps, of more to say—before nodding and taking his seat next to Morgana. She rubbed his arm comfortingly before letting go of Merlin's hand and giving Uther a hug. No one spoke as the priest came back out and spoke of the bible. Merlin tuned it out, he wasn't religious and the man he was here for certainly hadn't been either.
Merlin stiffened as a breeze blew over the back of his neck. Lemongrass filled his nose and suddenly he was there. Dark and rain pounding on his back. Red on his hands. No! he thought frantically, breath coming harder now, It's already done, I've already seen this! He looked around and saw the pale hand flung out at an awkward angle, the blood on the ground, the almost peaceful expression.
"Merlin?'
The dark haired man gasped and threw himself as hard as he could out of the memory. No one seemed to notice his minor breakdown except his mother. She looked at him worriedly as he struggled to breath normally. It took him a moment, but he was able to shoot his mother a reassuring look that he didn't feel. She grasped his hand for a moment before closing her eyes. Another prayer, then. He was shaking and panicking. He wanted out of this room, but knew this was the last time… Well, the last time to pretend that Merlin hadn't died also.
"Our turn," Morgana whispered as the priest once again disappeared. Merlin managed to calm down enough so that he wouldn't bolt as soon as he was on his feet. He couldn't do it, he couldn't accept it. By standing up and talking, he was accepting that his best friend was never coming back. Merlin still expected to see him walk through the front door of the flat they shared. It had only been a few days, he could still be there. He had to do this, though, for Morgana.
Morgana took Merlin's hand and led him up to the podium. He refused to look out at the sea of people who were only probably here because of Uther's status. "This man was the closest thing to a brother that I had. He did the things little brothers did and I did the things older sisters do. We had the most fun arguing with each other, sharpening our stupid insults on the other. I've said some pretty horrible things to him in my life. He never took them to heart, though," she paused and swallowed hard. Merlin squeezed her hand reassuringly as he hung back behind her a little bit. She smiled sadly at him before continuing.
"He was always there for me when I was having problems, and he was always overly enthusiastic when it came to retribution on ex-boyfriends." A slight titter of laughter rippled through the mourning. "He was a brat at times, I knew that better than almost everyone, but it hid a sensitive, honorable side. He refused to back down from a fight if he truly felt the other person had done something that went against his moral code. He got beat up a lot, but he knew how to throw a punch. I know because I taught him how to." She laughed mirthlessly before becoming solemn again. She pulled a picture out of her pocket before biting her lip. She clutched at it and Merlin recognized it. It was on his mantle at home. But it wasn't really home anymore.
A little boy and girl were holding hands, at the height of their jump over the water. The boy's mouth was open as he shouted with glee and Morgana had the widest smile on her face. Merlin saw Morgana start to cry. He felt her pain and ushered her to sit down. He didn't plan to say much anyways. Morgana patted his arm before moving away from him. He took a deep, steadying breath, trying to feel empty, trying to feel nothing.
Merlin stepped away from the podium and walked towards the coffin slightly to its side. He had yet to look into it, had been stalling it as long as he could. But it was time, it couldn't wait anymore.
"Arthur."
He lay in peaceful repose. Someone had combed his golden hair and cleaned him up. His arm didn't look broken and they had covered the bruises as best they could. If his eyes had been open Merlin would have found himself lost in blue. But they were closed. He was too still, there was no light of energy about him now.
"Arthur once made me promise that if I outlived him I would play a song at his funeral. He's the only one who ever discovered that I played guitar." Merlin whispered with a snort, remembering a very startled Arthur wandering in on a very surprised Merlin playing guitar. "I promised him. I never thought I'd have to fulfill that promise, but I never thought of a lot of things." Merlin leaned over and took the banged up black case from under next to the coffin. Morgana must have stashed it there earlier when Merlin had been seriously thinking of not playing. He had told her about it when he had been only talking and never thinking.
He sat down on a chair next to the coffin and took out the guitar. It was a dark matte black that Arthur had engraved on the back "Merlin". It was one of his most prized possessions. Merlin cleared his throat slightly and began to strum. This was his last song, why play what could only bring pain? He glanced at the waxen face and stole himself. That was why he was playing.
The song started off rather slowly. Merlin let the memorized lyrics flow through him and he didn't waste thought on the actions. He frowned slightly, hit the chorus, and felt the world slide away.
Don't tell me if I'm dying, cause I don't want to know.
If I can't see the sun, maybe I should go.
Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming of angels on the moon,
Where everyone you know, never leaves too soon.
Merlin went on, this was part of Arthur and he gripped it as close to his soul as he could. He didn't see Morgana's eyes fill with tears or Uther's. He didn't see his mother look sadly proud at him. He really didn't notice much but the way the strings resisted against his fingers or the way tears of his own were now streaming down his face.
When he finished no one clapped. It wouldn't have been appropriate. But there was definite awe in the room. Merlin rubbed absently at the neck of the guitar before looking at the people in the room for the first time.
"Arthur wrote that song." He heard a gasp come from somewhere but he didn't look. "He asked me to put it to music. He said that this was how life was supposed to be, to live and know that you're alive. Never give up and always live like that day is your last. No one plans on dying, it's just something that happens. Arthur knew that." Merlin clenched absently at the instrument in his lap. "I was there when he died. A braver man I have never met, and there is none braver than Arthur." He looked out among the people. These people didn't know Arthur, and Merlin was suddenly desperate that they should.
"It was raining. Everything good or bad that has happened in my life has happened in the rain. It's odd. We were walking home from classes when I got grabbed." He gave a bark of a laugh. "Mugging. In the rain. Doesn't make sense." Merlin shook his head.
"Arthur found a piece of wood and knocked the guy unconscious. We were leaving when the second guy came at us. He had a knife." "Merlin! Get out of here, you moron!" flash of steel reflecting lightning. "Well, Arthur fought him and the result brings us here. I wonder now what would have happened if I had done something differently, would he still be here?" Merlin put his guitar away slowly.
"I'll never know. I keep expecting him to walk through the door, for everything to be normal again. Arthur has been in my life since birth. There's a hole now that I can't stop feeling, one that I know will never go away." Merlin turned back towards the coffin. Arthur looked almost peaceful. Almost.
"To have loved and lost you is the greatest pain that I can bear," Merlin whispered, looking at Arthur for the last time. He slipped an envelope out of his pocket and tucked it into Arthur's hand. He handed the guitar to Morgana—who clasped at it reverently—before turning and walking out into the rain.
He didn't know where he was going, he just let his feet take him. Slowly Merlin went from walking to jogging to running. His shoes hit the concrete like gunshots: startling and instant. The rain soaked through his shirt and clung uncomfortably. Merlin paused long enough to tug it over his head and kick his shoes off before shooting down the road. The wet street stung as he pounded down it. Water ran down his face in channels and his hair stuck to the back of his neck. He reached the bridge crossing the Thames before he realized where he was. He pulled to a stop and sank to his knees. An insane roar ripped from Merlin's mouth and mind as he smashed his fists again and again into the pavement. His hands were soft and soon he had split the knuckles. Blood streamed from his hands and he paused, looking at them uncomprehendingly.
"No! ARTHUR!" He was blind with panic as Arthur stiffened and fell clumsily to his knees. The man in front of him chuckled and walked deeper into the alley. Merlin ran forward and managed to pull Arthur into his chest as the man fell backwards. His hands were clasped tightly at his chest as Merlin sank slightly under the weight. Blood flowed from between Arthur's fingers.
Merlin didn't know what he was saying, something about an ambulance and foolishness. Arthur coughed and Merlin steadied him. "Well if I'm foolish at least I'm brave," he wheezed. Merlin whimpered and Arthur clasped his hand in comfort. Rain fell lightly on the two men as Arthur struggled to breath.
"Please hang on, Arthur. I can't do this alone," Merlin whispered. If tears were falling from his eyes he couldn't tell. They mixed with the rain too well. Arthur pulled Merlin's hand upwards with a scarily obvious effort. He pressed his lips to them and grasped it weakly.
"You're stronger than you think you are, Merlin."
"No I'm not, it's a show."
"No it's not. I love you, remember."
Merlin looked up blankly and watched as the storm wiped away the blood on his hands. He stood up stiffly and turned to the edge of the bridge. The water turned in the Thames, dark blue and white as Merlin pulled himself onto the railing. It felt cold and firm under his feet. He gripped the nearest pole loosely in one hand as he leaned forward out over the edge. He thought as he stood there. It had begun with the rain, it seemed only fitting that it should end in the rain.
-------
Hope you enjoyed it, constructive criticism and reviews are extremely helpful and totally loved!