Happy birthday, Yerrie! Everyone, go to her page (.net/u/2948498/Fiyero_Tiggular) and review one of her fics as a present. PRETTY PLEASE?
:)
Monday
It wasn't his fault. Really, it wasn't. In fact, it was never Arthur's fault. Every time they ended up here, Arthur could always look back and pinpoint the exact moment in which everything had gone horribly wrong. There is a line, in everything you do. It dictates the difference between right and wrong; between fair game and low blows. And it was always Merlin, all but running across that line, and dragging Arthur with him.
This time, it was a very public fight about something Arthur couldn't even recall. He remembered little bits of the conversation but it somehow evolved into a fight about everything, from their families to their grades to the project their English teacher had unthinkingly partnered them for last year. And of course he remembered the fists. He hadn't been given an ice pack for his jaw and both his hands were bloody and stinging from where he had fought back.
As they sat in pissed-off silence, he located the turning point: it was Merlin suggesting his mother had been nothing of worth and that was why his father had moved on so quickly after her death; moved onto lots of other women. The truth was that Arthur's father was lonely. His mother, Igraine, had been everything to Uther. The only thing he had ever wanted in life. He spent years trying to win her over. And he finally did. Now she was gone and he sought comfort where he could. But the rumor mill was cruel and he was made out to be cold and unfeeling. Besides, didn't Merlin know that mothers were off limits in fights? That was against everything the bro code stood for.
Just because his father had broken the heart of Merlin's mother, it didn't give him the right.
The fight that followed was worth a week of detention. Today was the old fashioned detention that involved staring at a desk or glaring at the teacher who was usually marking papers and only bothered to look up if she caught you talking. Which wasn't something she had to worry about where Merlin and Arthur were concerned. Arthur never wanted to speak to him again, if he could help it.
Tuesday
But he couldn't help it. They were helping the janitor by picking gum off the underside of all the desks. Merlin was flipping them over a bit angrily and tearing chewing gum off with his gloved hands. Arthur was crouching under the desks and gently pulling and peeling.
"This is stupid, why are we even here?" Merlin growled. "And why would they leave us along together? That has never ended well for them." And that was true. Usually when they were left alone, one of them ended up on the floor, holding some aching appendage. It used to always be Merlin. But he had bulked up two summers ago and now there was a fifty/fifty chance of who it could be.
"I don't know, I'm finding this oddly cathartic." Two days in and Arthur had accepted his fate. Getting angry like Merlin wasn't actually going to solve anything. The thing was, he found it easy to rise above Merlin's anger when it was directed at someone else. But when it was directed at him, he had next to no impulse control and got angry back. Without Arthur agreeing with him, Merlin lost all his steam. Dejectedly, he sat back down and began to pick at the gum again, saying "well at least now I know what became of Vivian's excessive chewing habit."
"I thought she was trying to beat out Blake DeLlacer for the world record," Arthur joked.
"What?" Merlin turned to look at him as if he had grown seven extra arms.
"World's largest gum ball? He used seven hundred and twenty pieces... No?" Merlin shook his head and Arthur just shrugged and got back to work. It wasn't the first time these useless facts of his had earned a blank stare and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
"You're a weird kid, you know that?" Merlin said at last.
"I'm weird? You listen to weird indie shit. You wore eyeliner in year nine and I mean, who the hell wears jeans that tight?"
"Okay, chill. I didn't mean it like that."
"Well. Okay, then."
When they finally got out, William was waiting for Merlin in his dad's car. Merlin ran over and kissed him through the open window, using way more tongue than was strictly necessary. Arthur mimed throwing up, just to be funny, but nobody was there to see it. He walked to the parking lot opposite the school and found his car. It wasn't like he was jealous of Will. But he still found himself being a little attached to Merlin, like a relic from long ago. He'd tried to shake the feeling but it always caught up to him.
Wednesday
They were in charge of stapling things. Mostly exams that were being sent to another school. All schools in the district covered the same material, but each school had a bit of a White Elephant with quizzes, ensuring no biases could be put in place. It also allowed upperclassmen to staple the exams as a form of punishment without the fear of anyone cheating.
This time, it was Arthur's idea. The teacher had left them with a large stack of papers and a warning not to stray from the copy room. But it was right next to the headmaster's office. Which happened to house the student files.
Arthur had always been very curious if these indiscretions of his actually ended up on his permanent record. And if it did, their permanent records would have been very large indeed.
"I have to go to the toilets," Arthur said as the last stack of papers was being stapled.
Merlin nodded, not really looking up, a look on concentration on his face as he held his lower lip between his teeth. Arthur dragged himself out the door and headed for the bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut, he turned around.
The filing cabinets called for a key but Arthur's father had the same ones in his office and he'd long ago learned how to break in. A push here, a knock there, tilt the knob and pull.Then he was rifling through the dossiers and finally, he reached "Pendragon, Arthur."
Inside his file were his transcripts from kindergarten and all of them since; a list of all detentions he'd ever been given; every sick note he had turned in; all his sports scores; his 'in case of emergency' papers; even his college applications.
"Shit," he breathed. Before he could continue, Merlin came in through the adjoining door. "You said you were going to the bathroom," he accused.
"I lied. Merlin, they have everything on me." He showed Merlin his file, holding up the thick stack of papers in disbelief.
"Smokescreen. They know you'll break in and check. They're trying to scare you so you won't get in trouble again. Here, check Gwen's." Merlin went through the drawers and expertly pulled out "Smith, Gwen" and handed it to him. Arthur took it and saw that inside there were only transcripts. But Gwen had been in detention before, had called in sick before. Why wasn't that in here?
"Oh, thank fuck." Arthur turned to the drawer above and flipped through until he found "Emrys, Merlin", as the actual Merlin headed back to the copy room with a succinct "Any time you want to help!"
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. He was flipping through Merlin's file, just as full as his, and looked over the pages. There was one mystery about Merlin he had never figured out. Last year, he was suspended for two weeks. Nobody knew why. It was never spoken of again and Merlin had been very secretive. Arthur was curious. And while that had always killed the cat, Arthur considered himself to be smarter than most felines.
Then he found the suspension papers. Possession of narcotics, it said. But that didn't make sense. Merlin wouldn't-
He kept reading. "... said he was holding them for a friend... name of friend was never given... suspension was lifted once the drugs panel came back negative..." So that was it. Holding drugs for a friend? Being loyal to that friend. Probably Valiant. He had been busted three months later with the same charge. Arthur would never understand what Merlin saw in all his lost-causes. Friends, he called them. But when had they ever done anything friendly for Merlin?
"You know that wasn't a suggestion, the helping thing, could you..." Merlin dropped off as he saw what Arthur was looking at.
"Are you checking me out?" He asked after a moment.
"I wouldn't need your file to do that," Arthur said under his breath. Which was true. While Merlin had gone up a few sizes over the years, most of his shirts remained the same. They were verging on being too tight. Not that Arthur minded, exactly. But enough was enough. He'd had plenty of time to go shopping. He just refused to, apparently.
"Excuse me? You know I'm with Will, right?" Of course he knew. The entire high school knew, the way he bent over Will's car to kiss him goodbye or hello, all bending and snapping all over the place and flaunting his boy toy every chance he got.
"Please. You've been dating for two hours. That's not even a Lord of the Rings movie." Which was something Arthur knew only because Merlin had forced him to love them. A long time ago.
Merlin spluttered. "Will is... He is the wholetrilogy, okay?"
"He's probably alive for the whole trilogy, but only because he gets left in the Shire," he laughed at his own joke, though he didn't think Merlin approved of it.
"Why are you being such a dick?" He seethed.
"Why are you fucking a hobbit?" Arthur countered.
"He is a perfectly normal height." Arthur had the feeling he said that a lot, though probably with less venom when directed at people other than him.
"Sure he is. For a hobbit." Arthur knew height didn't dictate anything but Merlin needed somebody who was taller than 5'5. How could they be expected to hear him from such a low height? After all, Merlin was practically a giant. And giants and dwarves could always be friends, but nothing could ever come of it.
"Seriously, why are you always like this? We used to be friends." But that never meant anything. Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie used to be friends. They had been doing just fine without each other.
"Yeah, when our parents were dating. But then my dad broke up with your mom."
"I guess cruelty runs in the family," Merlin whispered, before heading back to what Arthur presumed was a hefty stapler and a relatively small pile of paper. He entertained the idea of letting Merlin finish alone but couldn't let him do all the work when it was both their faults.
"Okay, Merlin. You win. I can't do this anymore," he said. Then he sat down and straightened some papers and grabbed the stapler that had been given to him two hours before by Mr. Danzig.
Thursday
Merlin met him head on with a trash can in hand and an apology on his lips.
"I call do-over," he said.
"What are you talking about?" Arthur had already forgotten about their non-fight since Merlin had been wearing his purple shirt in class and Arthur fucking loved his purple shirt. More than it was right to love an inanimate object. He loved the shirt enough that he even forgot he hated Merlin. Until Merlin started talking, that was.
"Remember when we were kids and whenever you'd lose at Mario Kart, you would call do-over until you won?" He did remember. Spending his afternoons with Merlin had been like having a brother. Or at least an easy friend. Merlin had never argued when he called do-over and he was so easy to talk to.
"We were nine years old. You can't call do-over when you're eighteen. It's beneath even you, Merlin." Arthur couldn't believe it was half their lifetime ago. Sometimes he wanted that half back. He told himself it was a simple yearning for childhood. It was natural that he should want that time back when he was now expected to go off to college and make something of himself and take on too much responsibility at once.
"I don't care. We could be friends," Merlin said it like it was simple. And maybe it was. But Arthur found himself saying "I don't want to be your friend." And that was how it ended.
"Fine. I rescind my calling of do-over. You clearly don't deserve it," Merlin huffed.
"Great. Now that that's sorted. Now can we finish with the trash or do you have more feelings you'd like to discuss?"
"Bastard," he said in reply. He hauled his bin up just the same and carried on with his massive pincers, picking up stray pieces of litter.
Friday
"Freedom!" Merlin shouted, his arms raised high in the air, as they made their way out of the school after their last detention. It had been another silent, sit-down type of punishment, but they sat in less of hatred and more of a stupor. They were tired of staying three hours after school had ended and they were tired of helping janitors and they were tired of not starting their days until six. Mostly they were just tired of being in the same room as each other.
Arthur laughed in spite of himself. It was a relief to be done, but the twinge in his rib cage was telling him otherwise. Some small part of him wanted Merlin back.
"You know Arthur, I've been thinking," Merlin began. And Arthur would have made some remark like oh, that is never a good thing, but they were no longer familiar enough for that kind of teasing and he also knew Merlin happened to be a straight A student, thanks to a little dive into his file.
"I don't want to be your friend either. I guess while we were cooped up together, I got a small case of Stockholm Syndrome that made me think you weren't so bad. But now that I've been set free from the shackles of Avalon Grammar School, I remember the things about you that I despise. And it's too much to get past."
"You're saying I held you hostage?" Which was wrong, because Arthur wasn't the one holding anyone hostage. If anything, he'd been playing hostage to Merlin since they first met. He had ensorcelled him with his quick wit and sharp smile and better-than-ordinary playing of Mario Kart. And he'd kept him tied down all these years; always knowing exactly where Merlin was. Hating it. Hating that anyone could have this power over him and not even care. But maybe he had kept Merlin hostage, just a little, with his outright hostility.
So maybe they were both at fault. And it had only taken three and a half years of being in the same classes and nine classes of wandering past each other in the halls to realize that. But he could never say any of that. So when Merlin failed to articulate an answer, all Arthur could say was, "goodbye, Merlin."
Sunday
Arthur answered the door at precisely eleven forty-six that morning to see Merlin standing on the other side. He held a Wii remote in his hand and was wondering what the hell Merlin was doing there before Merlin held up two cups of coffee. "Wanted to apologize," he said by way of explanation, shrugging his shoulders.
"Come on. Mario Kart is always more fun with a second person, anyways." Arthur knew this to be true since he had been playing it alone all weekend. On his way home after their last detention, he stopped in at the game shop and bought it. Maybe because spending time with Merlin and not fighting had him feeling a little nostalgic. He didn't know what he hoped to achieve by playing the game but now that Merlin was here he didn't really have to think about it.
They weren't playing long until Merlin finished his coffee and was jittery with the caffeine. Then because his eyes kept darting over to Arthur's and it was messing with his steering and Arthur felt unnerved with his eyes on him. Arthur paused in the middle of Rainbow Road so he hoped Merlin had a good reason for being so damn jumpy.
"Yes?" He prodded.
"I meant what I said on Friday. I don't want to be your friend," Merlin said.
"Thanks for clearing that up." Arthur unpaused the game and Luigi kept driving.
"The thing is-" Arthur sighed and paused the game again. "Obviously Stockholm isn't the best example of what is happening inside my head right now. It's like... when a new song comes on the radio and you absolutely despise it. But everyone else loves it. They keep singing it, and they keep playing it and you hear it twenty times a day and it annoys the shit out of you. But then, for whatever reason, maybe everyone stops singing it, or whatever, but it gets stuck inside your head. And then you have to listen to it because it's the only way to get it out of your head. But then you... kind of start to like it."
"Okay, so Stockholm Syndrome with annoying music? I don't get it." Arthur shook his head as if that would knock the needed pieces of information into the correct orbit so he could understand what was going on. A week ago, Merlin was knocking him to the ground and uttering death threats. Now, he was...
"I broke up with Will."
Arthur gulped. "Why?"
"You're taller." ...Now he was where Arthur had been all along.
And then Merlin was on top of him and Rainbow Road was so far away it didn't even register in his mind as Merlin's hips dug into his and his hands moved up over his chest. He knew he and Merlin could never be friends. They were never meant to be friends. They were always meant to be this. He was always meant to have his hands on the small of Merlin's back, tracing his jawline. Merlin was always meant to push against him, to pull when it was needed.
It was always going to be Merlin's fault. But in this case, he was willing to take the blame.