Welcome to my newest story. I don't own Merlin, by the way. For those of you who know me know that, until last night, I haven't posted in eight weeks. The reason for that is that I was job hunting, which sucks at my soul. But I got a job and suddenly, I can write again.

So, Merlin is new to me, so I'm not going for a lot of plot. That said, I spent a lot of time letting the characters argue in my head and this is the result of that. I hope you like it. Also, I did throw in some British-isms, feel free to tell me I suck at it.

Chapter One

The first thing that Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, became aware of was that he couldn't breathe. It was followed shortly by the realisation that he was underwater and that his armour and chainmail were weighing him down. He kicked violently at the loose, sandy ground beneath his feet, even as he yanked chunks of metal over his head.

Free at last, he kicked one last time and started to rise. He broke the surface and gasped. Air had never tasted so…foul. He grimaced and coughed, splashing furiously to stay afloat. He shook his matted hair out of his eyes and tasted the air again. It was odd, thicker than it ought to be. He mopped his brow and looked to the shore, about twenty feet away and completely deserted.

It begged the question, where was Merlin? He remembered Merlin talking to him before things had faded to little more than nothing. That said, he had heard Merlin's voice raised in horrific depth as he roared in another language at someone, something. He didn't think it was him, at any rate.

"Merlin," he muttered darkly, his voice so unused that it barely made a sound, and swam for shore. His muscles burned unpleasantly as he moved. How long had he been underwater? Where the hell was he anyway?

Well, in a lake, obviously, probably the lake he was supposed to be in, but they hadn't made it. Hadn't even been close, when he'd…died. Gods, that was what happened, wasn't it? Damn. He gasped aloud as he dragged himself onto the shore. He rolled slowly onto his back and breathed heavily, staring at the sky. It was then that he noted it was night and there were no stars. He squinted. Well, there were a few, but nowhere near enough.

He grimaced and rolled over, looking at the grass. "Merlin," he murmured. His voice was still thick. He swallowed and called more loudly, "Merlin!"

No one came. He growled and dragged himself further up the bank. "Stupid…useless…servant…clotpole!" He got up the rise and stared. The forest was gone. Some sort of black surface split the grassy land in the moonlight. "What the hell?" he asked no one in particular.

Two bright lights caught his right eye and he stared as they, and a large contraption on thick wheels raced by, spewing heavy fumes into Arthur's face. He hacked loudly and recoiled from the path. A loud screech made him look that the thing, which was stopping. "Hello?" called a voice from within it.

Another light struck his face and his blue eyes blinked rapidly. "Hey, are you alright? Hey!" Feet crunched in the gravel on the side of the road. Arthur blinked uncomprehendingly. He didn't understand. What was he saying? It was a he, after all. The hand that touched his shoulder was wide and calloused.

He reached up and gripped the hand. "Merlin," he whispered, and his vision swam. Then he sagged to the ground.

…

"Doctor Emrys?" Merlin looked up from the computer at his desk. He was supposed to be researching a variation on a new antipsychotic, but he was actually watching last week's episode of Top Gear. He still looked like he was in his early twenties, with big ears and pretty, blue eyes, but, aside from the odd comment about plastic surgery, no one mentioned the fact that he didn't look like he should even be out of medical school, let alone a tenured physician.

"What is it, Leon?" he asked the curly-haired intern.

"A bloke in A&E was found soaking wet on the side of the road. He's speaking gibberish, doesn't seem to understand anything we're saying, and is terrified of everything and reacting violently. We tried to sedate him, but he started having an allergic reaction. Also, we ran his blood; he's not had inoculations for any modern diseases."

"You think he escaped from a cult or something?" Merlin asked.

Leon shrugged, playing with the pen in his scrubs' pocket. "Dunno. I've not seen him yet. Dr. Waters sent Gina to find you but she got called away, so now I'm telling you."

Merlin's eyebrows went up. "Dr. Waters is also a psychiatrist, Leon. Why is he summoning me?"

Leon's broad shoulders twitched. "Gina said that the only thing the patient said that she understood was 'Merlin'. Maybe, sir, since your name is Merlin, he'll talk to you."

Merlin swallowed and nodded. He wouldn't let the hope that was rising from the pit of his stomach get any higher. Just because Leon was back, didn't mean that Arthur was. He'd come across Gwen, all the knights and even Uther and Morgana over the centuries. Freya too. It was in 1713 when they'd met again, she didn't remember him beyond a feeling of attachment and love. Merlin had felt happy for a time.

A brief time, as he hadn't seen her since.

But if this was Arthur—no! It was just some crazy person who was part of some cult that tried and failed to produce magic. "I'll go down immediately."

Leon nodded and retreated. Merlin sighed and minimised the frozen video. He got up and stretched, listening to the cricks he ought to hear. Then he remembered he was stuck at twenty-three and rolled his eyes. No matter how long he lived, he still felt odd, watching everyone else age. He sighed, feeling the cracks that weren't there and took a step to the door, only slightly stumbling as he hit the corner of his desk. He winced and left.

The elevator doors opened onto the chaos of the A&E. "Coming through!" said a doctor pushing a gurney in his direction. He leapt out of the elevator and cut through the filled room, filing past curtains, glancing in surreptitiously, something he knew better than to do. Shouting at the far end, in a language he'd not heard spoken aloud in centuries, marked the place where King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot waited for him.

Merlin couldn't help the smile that curled his lips all the way up to his ears.

To be continued...

A&E means Accidents and Emergencies in Britain. The other words should be easy enough to figure out.

So, please tell me what you think, mostly because I don't know what I'm doing here and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. That, and I'll give you all cookies.

Thanks for reading!