Author's Note: Written by me for themerlinartsfest2014, using the written prompt: It's cold. The rain won't stop falling, and he/she is all alone. And then they see a light coming from far away.
Torrents of rain fell from the oblivion that encased the midnight sky, blocking out the gentle rays of the moon.
The darkness consumed all light, the water consumed all sound, until the world was alone in its shadows. Alone in its pain and hard ways filled with yelling much like the booming of the thunder overhead and tears that fell much like the rain did. There were no stars above watching over the earth from the heavens, not tonight.
Tonight it was as if the heavens themselves cried out for the injustice of the world, for all of the pain and anguish that had been inflicted on its children, and finally, finally, they could shed cold tears for the son without a family. The druid boy who made enough mistakes in his past life to haunt him in the next. A boy who had wanted to redeem himself for his crimes, but whose chance had slipped between his thin, shivering fingers as the words left his boyfriend's lips. Get out.
The door had slammed in his face, barring him from the warmth that the apartment offered. It banished him from the love and hatred of the man he loved, offering him the bleakness of his future. Of what should have always been his future. Alone. Abandoned. Leave.
A fate well-suited as a punishment for the boy, considering all he had done in the past. How he had left Merlin centuries ago, in a different way, in a different era. It was only fair that Merlin leave him in the same state as Mordred had left him. I was so stupid.
What hurt the most was that Merlin had kicked him out because he had tried to make up for what he had done. I should have known better.
It was a simple rule that Merlin set up, when he first decided to bring the orphan boy into his home. Don't talk about the past, don't mention what was done, and never say his name. Despite the years that had passed, the coming and going of others, the changes and conquests of other lands, Merlin still could not accept the death of his closest friend. I can't believe I let you in.
Not even after coming to love Mordred, not even after accepting his love in return. All Mordred had done was dare to utter that name, the one word that the other man could not bear to hear. He had done it for a good cause; he had wanted to make it clear that he regretted his decision all those years ago. I never should have trusted you.
Even though Merlin never mentioned it, never spoke of what happened nor gave the slightest indication that he remembered what had happened, it still hovered between them. It was there in the way that Merlin sometimes squeezed his hand too tight, in the way he sometimes kissed Mordred with such force that it left them both bruised and bloody the next day. It was present when they made love, gentle touches turning into nails and teeth not out of pleasure, but out of guilt. I never should have let myself love you.
Guilt to love the one who had taken his friend from him, his destiny, his first love. You will never change, Mordred.
All he had done was beg forgiveness in an attempt to get rid of the ever-present anger that Merlin held. Mordred wanted him to be happy, wanted their relationship not to be haunted by all that had happened. All he wanted was to put the past in the past, once and for all. All he had done was love Merlin enough to give up his past. Don't come back.
All he had done was apologize. Ever.
The rain wasn't even the worst of it. Mordred could feel a chill settling in his bones, numbing his fingers and toes, gluing his hair to his forehead. None of that mattered to him. Not the fact that he could catch a cold, nor the fact that he was wet and shivering. Not even the fact that he was alone. What cut through his heart with the sharpest of blades was that Merlin had left him.
Merlin, who had nearly abandoned him centuries ago, when they had first met. Merlin, who had tried to kill him again as a child, and who had led the knights of Camelot to his druid camp. Merlin, who never trusted him, not even after he saved the King's life years later, and served the kingdom loyally. Merlin, who chose to give up magic in Camelot because he thought it meant that he would die. Merlin, who didn't so much as glance at his body as he lay dying next to the king...
Merlin, who had accepted the young man into his home centuries after the death of Arthur Pendragon, when he showed up on the warlock's doorstep with the knowledge that Merlin might very well kill him for all he had done. Merlin, who had clothed and fed him, treated him with kindness and softness. Merlin, who taught him about the new world, about all that had happened, and showed him how to live again. Merlin, who rewarded him with smiles and laughter every time he came back from the local university with a paper that he had gotten perfect grades on. Merlin, who took him out every Saturday to the little cafe on the end of the block for dinner; two bowls of their house soup and two cups of Chai tea. Merlin, who took Mordred when he offered himself to the warlock. Merlin, who had come to love him...
Merlin, who had left him.
That knowledge cut deeper than any blade ever could. What purpose did he have now? Where would he go? Back to the University? A life that seemed bleak and pointless without the warlock beside him. There was nothing in Mordred's new life that was worth living without Merlin, not even all that he had made for himself. Merlin was... Merlin was everything.
The sharp glimmer of light cutting through Mordred's nocturnal world was the only warning that the druid got of the approaching car. The thundering rain drowned out every other sound of life, including the tires splashing through the puddles, the engine roaring through the night, and the wind breaking against metal when the automobile slowed down as it approached the boy.
Mordred knew he should hold a thumb up in a silent plea for a ride, but he could not force himself to raise his arm. It was a heavy weight against his side, numb and cold and unresponsive. If he managed to get a ride, if he left their quaint, little town and didn't look back, then it would officially be over. Merlin would be out of his life for good, for the second time.
Mordred wasn't certain he had anything worth living for if he didn't have Merlin. Even when he came back from death, his first thoughts had been of the warlock. Even as he had wandered alone for so long, alone, slowly making his way towards the pull of the warlock's magic, all he could think of was Merlin. He wasn't alone; Merlin was here too, alive, and he would decide Mordred's fate.
But now Merlin wasn't here anymore. Not for him, at least.
The puddle of water near the boy splashed, soaking his jeans to the shivering skin beneath as the car pulled to a stop next to Mordred, headlights blazing a path of the road in front but interior as dark as charcoal. Mordred pressed his lips together in vague annoyance as his body shuddered violently, tendrils of cold reaching up through his veins to grasp his heart and draw the last of his warmth from his body. As if he wasn't wet enough already.
The door of the car swung open, light flooding Mordred and blinding him. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, ready to wave the kind soul on and reassure them that he didn't want a ride. The sight of the man sitting in the driver's seat, however, brought his words to a dead stop in his throat, heart pounding painfully against his ribs and choking off any sound he might have made.
"Get in."
Mordred flinched away from the car at Merlin's cold words. His words echoed back to the druid, the condemnation and the betrayal and the anguish they had caused. Don't come back. Ever.
"You said-"
Merlin made a soft sound and leaned over to meet the boy's eyes, his own cast in the shadows of his eyelashes and unreadable. "I know what I said. Just... get in."
The car door hung open, heat pouring out, promising warmth and dryness and all of the pleasures that the boy had been without for the last few hours.
It was with downcast eyes that Mordred slowly climbed in, aware of the roughness of his jeans as he bent his legs, of the water dripping all over the clean, dry interior of Merlin's car, wetting it with dark marks. He was aware of how terrible he looked, half drowned and shivering, pathetic and weak.
Abandoned. Like a child. Like he had been when they had first met, a whole lifetime ago. Except then he had been injured, not sopping wet. He had still needed Merlin then, as he did now, though for entirely different reasons.
His door swung shut with a resounding thud, sealing his fate, and Merlin pulled back onto the highway, urging the car up to the speed limit. The silence between them, charged with so many unnamable emotions, crawled over his skin like a swarm of bugs. Merlin hadn't even turned on the radio. He only kept it off when he meant to focus on Mordred. And yet still the silence hovered, unbroken.
"I never meant to upset you." His heavy heart urged the words past his lips before he could stop them, the faintest glimmer of hope alight in his chest that perhaps, maybe, all was not quite lost yet. Merlin had come for him... He had to try, one last time. "I just wanted to..."
"I know." Merlin's answer came after another nearly unbearable silence, said so softly that Mordred would have missed had he not been listening for it. He glanced to Merlin curiously, hope blossoming to a full rose at the other man's simple words. The warlock's eyes stayed glued to the road in front of him, flicking between signs and oncoming traffic, but the druid could see the glimmering of unshed tears in his eyes.
"I couldn't find you, you know." Merlin whispered after a moment, blinking rapidly as a tear slid down his cheek.
It took all of the druid's focus to listen to his words when all the boy wanted to do was lean across the seat and wipe the tear from his cheek. It was surprise that kept him still, cool and shocked, and all he managed to choke out was one word.
"What?"
Merlin's hands shook against the steering wheel, the moisture building up against the bloodshot blue of his eyes, but no other tear fell. "I looked. I went to the cafe, to the park, and to the club. I even texted your friends. You vanished."
"Merlin..." Merlin hadn't left him. He had looked. If only Mordred hadn't been so stupid, if only he had headed for the safety and familiarity of the cafe, or the park. But... that was what he had been trying to get away from. Memories of Merlin were what those places held, and Mordred hadn't been able to bear the thought, or the happiness, that came along with them. Not when he had been abandoned. Not after that.
"I thought I lost you." His voice broke as he spoke, and the trembling of the warlock's hands won over with his good judgment. The car slowed and he pulled it to the shoulder of the highway, shifting it into park before crushing his hands against his thighs and letting out a shuddering breath. Blue eyes flicked up to meet Mordred's, filled with the words that the warlock was trying to piece together. "I realized that... that I can't lose you. Not you. I don't care what you've done, ok? Just... don't leave again. Don't let me push you away."
Those words, whispered so hesitantly, as if scared of rejection, soothed the numbness that had encased the druid's heart, and drew it away. In its place was the warmth of his love, as hesitant as Merlin's, and the barest quirk of his lips as his own vision blurred ever so slightly. "I won't."
Merlin's lips drew up into a smile to match his own, and for once, when Mordred met his eyes, the boy could find no hint of the past. All he saw was the deep blue of Merlin's eyes, filled with hope for the future, tears for the moment, and love. Eyes that reflected exactly what Mordred felt, building in his chest, threatening to spill out through tears.
Look how we have changed from who we used to be. The past is the past, and our love is meant to be.
