A/N: A friend gave me this idea and they don't even know they did. Thank you PrincessPo for suggesting that these actors would make great roommates.
Instead of using the actors this will be the characters, but the difference is this will not follow the plot of the show and it takes place in modern times.
This will be one of the few times I will speak to you guys; the rest will be the story. I promise. Feel free to comment if you like weather it is good or bad.
I will do my best to update this once a week if not more.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or the show Merlin.
Thanks for reading and Enjoy :)
Chapter 1: Pilot
A young man walked down the abandoned morning London street. No one was around as it was 5am. Not the usual time for shopping or working, but he didn't mind. He was always up early. To be honest he barely slept at all.
He smiled as he remembered the events of the past days…
"Mordred!" a yell woke the 21-year-old up from the trance he had been in. He knew that yell. It was Arthur.
"Wha?" was Mordred's response as his eyes moved off the newspaper ads.
"What did you do?!" Arthur asked as he entered the small kitchen completely.
Oh crap! Mordred thought. He knows.
Mordred's eyes darted around the room for a means of escape, but the larger man was blocking the only exit of the flat's kitchen. His eyes landed back on the bulkier, taller man who even in a suit looked intimidating with a scowl edged on his face. He could see the anger in the light blue eyes.
Yep. He knows. Mordred frowned solemnly. But how?
He looked past the blonde's head and spotted the black mop of Merlin's hair.
Of course. Mordred rolled his eyes.
"Arthur! What did I just say?" Merlin roared as he stepped in between Arthur and the sitting Mordred. Arthur looked to protest but Merlin's fast mouth beat him to it.
"Didn't I just tell you 'don't say anything or get mad'?" Merlin's eyes were like daggers digging into Arthur's skull.
"It's the second job he's lost this month!" Arthur retaliated.
"But it wasn't my fault this time!" Mordred shouted in defense.
"It doesn't matter whose fault it was this time! The last one was your fault, and the time before that, and the time before that!" Arthur ranted. Mordred looked down at the table, both out of anger and shame.
"Arthur!" Merlin yelled then took a deep breath. Arthur looked down at the floor and crossed his arms.
"It was not his fault this time," Merlin said calmly. "The Drug Store's daughter-"
"I don't want to hear it, Merlin! If he would just listen to me he wouldn't need to be unemployed constantly!" Arthur interrupted. Mordred was starting to grow tired of this bickering. It was a typical Monday afternoon. Arthur yelling at him once again, and Merlin defending his actions weather they be good or bad.
Mordred stood up and walked towards the exit, pushing Arthur out of his way in the process. He opened the front door of the flat and walked into the spring air.
Arthur's look of disbelief traveled from the front door which had just slammed shut to the angry scowl Merlin wore.
"Nice Arthur. Real nice," Merlin stated walking towards his room, leaving Arthur in his shocked daze.
Mordred huffed as he walked along the broken side walk of the lower part of London. His eyes were focused on the ground as he walked.
"Stupid Arthur," he muttered under his breath. "Stupid Merlin. Why does he always have to tell Arthur? Stupid job. Stupid girl. Stupid Mr. Fran. I hate this." He brewed to himself like an angst ridden teen as he kicked a stone on the pathway. The stone flew until it hit a nearby flower pot, cracking it loudly.
"Crap!" Mordred cringed as he quickened his pace, hoping no one had noticed.
He sighed sadly when he rounded the corner, leaning against the brick wall of an old shop. He crossed his arms as he rested his head on the cool bricks. He was tired. Always tired. Ever since that day he had been tired.
Tired from a lack of sleep. Tired of the pain. Tired of the sadness. The heartbreak. With every job he lost, every step he missed, he would feel that pain. The undesirable reminder that he had failed yet again. Life wasn't always this hard. He remembered when living was a happier time.
But that time was long gone.
He stood there for awhile; just contemplating all of the unexpected turns in which his life had taken within the past six years. He had lost so much. He looked up at the sky. It was growing darker.
He decided it was best that he went home. The pilfers and gangs came out around this part when night drew in. Just as he was about to turn around though his face met an extended arm.
He followed the wrist until he saw the face of the owner. It was a long- haired man who looked to be in his late twenties, early thirties. He had a crocked nose and blood- shot eyes. His breath reeked of alcohol. Mordred gulped noticeably as he backed up slowly. His path was blocked by a wall: a human wall.
Mordred slowly craned his neck to peer into the face of the huge thug. He gulped once more and looked towards the street. But another, smaller, and slightly older than him, man blocked that exit.
He whirled around so his back was towards the brick walls, and he was facing all three of his attackers head on. He tried to make his face as confident as he could force it to look, but was failing miserably. He raised his fists and arms to a defensive position over his chest.
All three assailants laughed at his display.
"Looks like we have a fighter," the man he backed into chuckled.
"Let's see how great of a fighter he really is," the smaller man said with a twisted smirk. Mordred looked between the three as they spoke.
"Please I don't have any money!" Mordred shouted as all three took a step closer.
"Do you 'ear that?" the one who had stopped him exclaimed with a feigned look of surprise. "He don't got no moneys! Well I jus' have to trust h'm! Be on 'r way now!"
The man laughed with the rest of his friends.
"Stop!" Mordred insisted. He raised his fists higher, ready to fight his way out if he had to. The second thug raised his fist as it came crashing down on Mordred's shoulder. He gasped in pain as the force of the blow to his shoulder shot through his neck. He lowered down, covering his head with his hands, so he was sitting on the dirty sidewalk. The other men began to raise their fists. He got two more blows handed to him, one to the stomach and one to the jaw, and a few good kicks before the group stopped in mid-swing.
Mordred opened his eyes to look up at the three, wondering why the blows had stopped. He followed their gaze to the left. He sighed in relief.
"Put your fists down now," the voice did not yell. Instead it growled like a mad dog. And that is what Arthur looked like, a mad dog.
"And why should we," the shorter man sneered, but Mordred could tell he was fighting the urge to run away. The other two lowered their fists. It was then that Mordred realized the bigger of the two was gripping his right arm fairly tight.
"I would listen," another voice standing next to Arthur chimed in. His was deeper, and his voice less threatening, but the look in his sapphire eyes made even Mordred, who wasn't even on its receiving end, cringe.
"You let him go right now or you'll wake up thinking a car landed on your chest," Arthur snarled. The smaller man's eyes widened and the larger man loosened his grip on Mordred's arm, but he was still pinned down by the hand.
"You want him come and get him," the second largest man intervened with a smile as he raised his fist. Mordred closed his eyes awaiting the hit to his face, but it never came.
He looked up to see the pained expression of the man just as Arthur had punched him in the lower back. The smaller one rushed towards Arthur, but Merlin was able to trip him, causing his stomach to collide with Merlin's fist. The largest man lost his grip on Mordred completely, far too busy raising his hands to block on onslaught of blows from Arthur. The defense was failing as punch after punch hit him in the stomach.
Mordred scooted away from the fight. Merlin was next to him in an instant. Mordred let out a hiss of pain when Merlin helped him up by grasping his shoulder. The mixture of guilt, anger and worry on the older man's face made Mordred feel all the more guilty for being mad at him and Arthur a few minutes earlier.
"Come on," Merlin said softly. Mordred stumbled when Merlin removed his hand. One of them must have kicked his leg hard when he was being bumbled because the surge of pain emerging from his shin almost made him knock Merlin over. Arthur was there in a second, catching Mordred's flailing arms, the man he had been fighting nowhere in sight having run off.
The two shared a look. Guilt ran supreme in both of their blue eyes. Arthur quickly looked down and allowed Merlin to steady Mordred by placing his arm around the taller man's shoulder. Arthur did the same with the other arm, and the three were able to walk back to their flat, Mordred limping all the way.
When back inside, Merlin helped Mordred into a sitting position on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. He leaned his head back over the couch's back rim and let out a breath of relief. Merlin sat next to him and began to check over the injures he had sustained. Arthur stood in the doorway, arms crossed and looking at the pair with a worried intensity.
Merlin, however, had a face of concentration as he pulled off Mordred's shirt and examined the bloody bruises. Though Mordred could see, that under his mask, Merlin was in fact just as worried, if not more, as Arthur. He always was very protective.
"Not too bad," Merlin stated the seriousness of his face hidden with a reassuring smile. Relief filled his eyes as he walked into the kitchen to get the first aid kit. Arthur took this time to glance at the injured man, who smiled half- heartedly in return.
Arthur swallowed a hard lump in his throat. He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak but then shut it and looked away. He glimpsed over. The guilt covered his face like a blanket. He opened his mouth once more but Mordred stopped him.
"Thanks," he said with the same small smile. Arthur's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"What?" Arthur asked tilting his head.
"Thanks for saving my butt out there," Mordred stated in genuine gratefulness. Arthur swallowed once more. His mouth felt dry.
"I… you wouldn't have needed saving if I hadn't overreacted," Arthur said just above a whisper. His eyes went to the hard wood floor. Mordred's went towards the window and its white curtains.
"I'm sorry," Mordred said in the same, barely audible tone. Arthur sighed and walked over to sit next to him on the couch. He leaned forward and clasped his hands between his outstretched knees.
"Look," he began and Mordred looked at the side of his face. Arthur kept staring at his hands. "I know I push you. I know I get mad easily and overreact, but it's because I want what is best for you. I know you won't accept the money I offered for college, and for the life of me I can't figure out why. But I see you have your reasons. Maybe you don't want me to have it over you. Maybe you think you have to do this on your own, but know that I will try to be supportive of your decision, whatever it may be. I can't promise I will always like it, but I will always be here for you."
Arthur looked up at him when saying those last words with a look of pure sincerity. Mordred smiled and Arthur returned it. Merlin walked in just in time to see Arthur get up.
"Did you apologize?" Merlin asked half-jokingly, half-seriously as he passed Arthur. Arthur glared in return then nodded with a small smile and walked over to sit in the dark red recliner next to the couch.
The 26-year-old smiled and sat down next to Mordred opening the kit as he did. He looked into Mordred's eyes and spoke with two different looks.
Merlin's saying, Sorry I told Arthur.
And Mordred's, Sorry I stormed off.
With their silent apologies exchanged, the two smiled as Merlin cleaned the wounds.
"Thanks," Mordred said as he put his shirt back on when the wounds were dressed.
"What are big brothers for," Merlin replied with a goofy grin. Suddenly Arthur was behind Merlin in a second and had him in a head lock.
"I don't know Merlin? What are they for?" Arthur asked as he rubbed the squirming man's head.
"Irritating the living heck out of me," Merlin grumbled when he was finally able to escape the blonde's grasp. Arthur moved to sit in between his younger brothers.
Mordred chuckled at his elder siblings' antics. Both of whom turned to look at him. Arthur and Merlin shared a look right before Arthur used both of his arms to put both Merlin and Mordred into bear strong headlocks.
"Arthur!" they both yelled in retaliation, but the 28-year-old only laughed in return.
…Mordred smiled as he turned the corner, landing him on the street of his destination. Arthur and Merlin had helped him the next day to find a job. Arthur's old high school friend owned an ice cream parlor and was looking for a register manager.
Mordred opened the glass door and a bell rang throughout the small shop. A man appeared from behind the counter. His dark skin was contrasted by a white shirt and a light red tie.
"Ah, Mordred Dragon! Ready to start working?" the owner, Eylan Smith, greeted warmly. Mordred smiled largely as he approached the counter, limping slightly from being beaten a few days back.
"I'm ready to begin," he beamed.