Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing at all, no matter what fandom you are recognising.

Well, where do I start? This is my 100th story being posted on here, and I wanted to try something a little different for it. I couldn't decide between aiming it at the lovely Merlin lot, or the supportive Thunderbird lot. So I figured why not do both?

Warning now that the updates might not be to regular for this. But you both either have or are about to have stories for each fandom anyway, so I'm hoping you'll let me get away with this one.

Thunderbirds lot know my awesome and fantastic beta anyway, but for the Merlin lot, you won't have my normal mistakes that you are used to. Bee, thank you!

And so, without any further ado...

Merlin choked back a laugh as he heard a loud crash followed by a thud and a cursing voice.

"Arthur?"

There was no answer, just another bout of swearing that caused the warlock to let loose his mirth. For fifteen hundred years he had walked the earth alone, wondering if Albion was ever going to have the need to have her rightful king return once again. He had all but given up hope, convinced himself that he had just wandered for years with no real purpose. Lifetime after lifetime he had grown close to people, only to lose them to his nemesis of time. It wouldn't claim him like it did those around him, wouldn't let him escape beyond this world and be with the ones that he loved again. Merlin was ashamed to admit that he had let himself go a little in this lifetime, knowing that nothing serious would happen to him because his magic was just as active now as it had been hundreds of years ago.

Only, something serious had happened this lifetime. He had felt it before he had even known precisely what it was he was feeling. But he didn't have to waitlong to find out. Only a week after his magic started acting up, a group of young adults moved into town. Tugged in that direction by his power, Merlin had practically passed out at finding himself face to face with Gwen. Not only her body, but her spirit as well. Once he had recovered enough, the others had appeared: Lancelot, Elyan, Gwaine and Leon had all been there. Lancelot was a doctor, Elyan a mechanic. Gwaine had stayed with his fighting spirit and joined the army, whilst Leon was a teacher and Gwen a nurse. But it was as if something had just clicked with them, and finding each other had revealed their memories. Merlin had always worried about what would happen if that had been the case, but actually it was almost an anti-climax. They just woke up one day and knew, and found they had already accepted that fact.

But just as Merlin became used to the idea that his friends were back, they revealed that someone else had returned. Percival had been forced to knock Merlin out to stop him killing Morgana on the spot, and it was only because she wasn't there when he awoke again that he had listened to what the others had to say. Apparently Gwaine, too, had tried to kill her when they had first met, but when the once-witch had begged him to, saying it was no more than she deserved, he hadn't been able to. Claiming that it was just because he thought it was a better punishment for her to live, they had spared her. Morgana had no powers in this life, fate was making her pay for her past crimes. But during their journey to Merlin, she had become part of the group. It took Merlin months before he was able to think of her as a friend again, remember her the way she was rather than the witch responsible for Arthur's death. But eventually they had moved on, and Merlin now considered her to be a friend.

Yet Arthur didn't appear.

More people from their past gradually emerged, some staying nearby, some moving on. It was as if Merlin's magic was drawing them all to the area. Will and Freya hadn't remembered who they had once been, but considering their tragic endings and the fact that they had now found happiness with each other, Merlin had just let his magic tempt them away from this area. He didn't want them hurt, not again. Morgause and Cendred also didn't seem to remember, and Merlin had his magic cause absolute hell for the newlyweds until they went. Morgana had found it rather amusing to watch, but Merlin refused to let them stay and twist his friend again.

The reasoning behind their return seemed to gradually make itself apparent as disaster after disaster shook the world. The authorities and rescue services were doing all that they could in order to try and aid people, but it didn't seem to matter what they tried or how advanced their machinery was, it wasn't enough. Nothing could be enough to stand against Mother Nature, and Merlin knew that this was the hand of destiny again. He tried to do what he could, a little magic here and there to keep those around him safe. But even his magic couldn't deal with something of this scale; he knew that they needed a miracle.

And then, just one average Tuesday afternoon, that miracle had arrived.

They all tried to keep their lives as normal as possible, but also found they were meeting up often. There were too many emotions flying around the group for them to just pretend that they didn't know each other. Merlin had arrived late that day, over the moon about the fact Gwaine could still make it even though he was being shipped abroad within the next few days. His spirits had been high and there had been a grin on his face.

But the grin had disappeared just as quickly as it had emerged.

It was as if he had been punched in the chest, all the air being driven from him the second he saw his friends. Gwen had timidly asked him if he was okay, stating that he had gone pale and he should sit down before he fell down. But Morgana had taken one look at him and shoved him towards the door, seeming to realise that it was his magic that was acting up rather than a physical ailment. Merlin didn't need to think about where he was going, he just ran full pelt towards a nearby lake. It wasn't just any lake, however, but the one. Merlin never had intended to go far from Arthur, no matter what.

Skidding to a halt and clutching his side, Merlin had looked up.

Just in time to see his king rising once again from the water.

At first, Merlin had been able to do nothing but drop to his knees. How long had he been waiting for Arthur to emerge? But then the situation had swiftly spiralled out of his control as he realised that Arthur already remembered everything. It was as if he had just been asleep for a night, and now that a new dawn had broken, he suddenly found himself in a whole new world.

A world in which Arthur was no longer a king.

A world in which enemies – to him, anyway – came in the form of machinery that he couldn't command with a few words and a stern look.

Merlin had taken him home, knowing that Arthur was more likely to kill himself than be of any use if he was left to wander the streets alone. It had taken him long enough to get his head around the idea of cars, let alone the fact that people didn't automatically move out of his way when he walked past anymore. But Merlin knew that he was getting there, especially now that it had been a few weeks.

Naturally, as soon as he had understood the concept of a car, Arthur had wanted one. The faster, the better. Judging by that crash, however, the dishwasher was still proving to be the one enemy that Arthur had yet to defeat, and the swearing indicated that he was less than happy about that.

Still, Merlin couldn't help but muse, as he flipped open his phone to let Gwaine know of the latest catastrophe and to remind the solider of his promise to stay alive, Arthur had managed to pick up the new dialogue pretty fast. Merlin wasn't sure he had ever heard someone swear so much in one sentence, but considering it was still early days for the man, he wasn't going to risk Arthur's temper by saying anything.

Some things had changed, some had not.

"You've enchanted it again, Merlin, I know you have."

"No, Arthur, it's just how it is plugged in." Merlin made sure to keep his voice neutral and to stop his former master from seeing the smile on his face. When he had first realised that Arthur remembered everything that they had been through together, he had initially panicked, thinking that now Arthur could react to the magic without the inconvenience of battling a life-threatening wound at the same time. But it seemed that Arthur had been sincere in his forgiveness and nothing had really been said about it. It hadn't escaped Merlin's notice, however, that the first few times he had used it around the house, Arthur's hand had drifted to his waist, almost as if his fingers were searching for the weapon that had once hung there. But he had always looked guilty about doing it and the habit had disappeared quickly. Merlin wasn't sure he would ever be able to say how relieved he had been.

Arthur turned, clearly to try and tell him off (old habits die hard), but his eyes drifted straight over Merlin's head.

"Arthur?" Knowing that something was troubling the ex-king by the way his brow crumpled, Merlin turned.

"Oh."

There was a small television in the kitchen, situated on the wall where Merlin had been standing. Glancing at Arthur's face, he knew that it was not the getting used to the technology that had him frowning, but rather, what it was showing. Leaning over, he flicked a switch and turned the volume up.

"…and as you can see, the trapped miners have no way out of this exit, it has completely and utterly collapsed. Whether there is another way out still remains to be seen, experts are on hand here to… Wait…." The reporter broke off, one hand touching her ear in a way Merlin knew still confused the hell out of Arthur.

"We have just heard that unidentified craft are in the area and we have reason to believe that it is the... Yes, over there! Chuck, turn the camera… Ladies and gentleman, as you can see, International Rescue is now approaching the danger zone. Thunderbird Two is landing directly behind us, if we just…" The camera made to turn, but then was stopped at the last moment. Merlin knew why though. Whoever was involved with the organisation were better at keeping secrets than even he had been back in the day. They didn't want their machines on show any more than necessary. If he was honest, Merlin understood. He knew about secrets.

The reporter moved away from the camera, but Merlin found that he was glancing over his shoulder at Arthur. The man was gripping the mug he had been trying to get into the dishwasher tightly in his hand, frowning. Merlin couldn't help but smile softly, his eyes glowing and causing a stool to gently knock into the back of the man's knees. Arthur sat without protesting, all of his attention fixed on the screen in front of him. He might have been adapting to modern life, but Merlin could see the protectiveness in his eyes, knew that it still hurt him to see people suffering, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it. At least as a king, Arthur had been able to give orders that would make a difference. Here and now, he was just a nobody, despite Merlin's belief that fate had brought him back at this time for a reason. Turning back to the television, Merlin sighed.

"Thunderbird Two has now landed and is unloading something that we believe to be called the Mole. I don't know if you can see this, but two members of the organisation are now tunnelling through the collapsed entrance. They look to be through, the machinery has stopped."

The commentary continued for half an hour until hover-jets appeared. The cameras had slowly moved round as time had progressed, making sure their movements were too small to be noticed. They had gradually got more of International Rescue's machinery into shot, however. The familiar blue-clad rescuers helped the miners over to the paramedics before disappearing behind the machinery. Merlin could sense that Arthur's attention was drifting now that it was obvious the people were going to be okay, so muted the television and turned back to face him. To his surprise, there was a small smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I know that look, Arthur, what is it?"

"Those guys…" He nodded towards the television, but Merlin knew that he was referring to the elusive International Rescue.

"What about them?"

"Do they ever remind you of the knights? You know, back in the day."

"What?"

"Oh come on, Merlin, it's not that absurd. They clearly try and protect the innocent as best as they can, and instead of having swords, they have machinery."

Merlin sighed, seeing the look in Arthur's eye and knowing what he was thinking.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"Arthur, you know how back in Camelot, anyone who was anything had a sword? It's not the same now. They are the only ones with that kind of technology and they are the only ones who can have it. You know that we talked about this: it was like Morgana's magic against your sword, she would have to win."

"She didn't every time," Arthur muttered, but Merlin could see by the pout on Arthur's face that he was resigning himself to the fact that Merlin was right. It had taken the warlock days to explain how that sort of machinery in the wrong hands could destroy the world that Arthur was still trying to protect, despite the fact that it was not the world he had once known.

"You know my point. I'm sorry, Sire, but there is nothing you can do."

Arthur harrumphed, but fell quiet again as his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. The majority of the report was now over and the Thunderbirds had left the zone. Merlin wished them luck, whoever they were. It was as if the world was being torn apart, and they were the only ones still fighting to keep it together.

"You didn't say I was wrong though."

"About?"

"About them being like the knights. It's easy. Change their stupid uniforms into chainmail and there you go."

"Not sure they can run into a fire in chainmail, Arthur." This time, Merlin was unable to keep the smile off his face. The television crews never got too close to the rescuers – as per their request – but using his magic to take the focus just that little bit closer had revealed that they were all young men. There seemed to be five of them, as Merlin was sure the faces changed even though there was still some resemblance between them. Even so, it was enough to know that if someone was to suggest they carried out their missions in chainmail, they would be on the receiving end of a very strange look at best.

"Still don't think they should run into fires anyway. They should find a well," Arthur grumbled, standing up and stalking through to the lounge. Merlin grinned, knowing that Arthur was simply hating to be wrong about anything.

"Merlin, I want more coffee."

"Get it yourself, I'm not your servant in this life." Hearing Arthur's exclamation of annoyance had Merlin shaking his head and his eyes starting to glow. The jar floated innocently off the table and came to rest on a higher shelf, way out of Arthur's reach. There were some things that Merlin knew he shouldn't have introduced the once royal to. Whilst caffeine made him somewhat more tolerable to get up in the mornings, Merlin had swiftly discovered that it was as bad as giving Arthur something sugary, his body was still adapting to the change in the diet and it went straight to his head.

Leaving the kitchen, he sighed as he glanced towards the television again.

"Good luck, guys, whoever you are," he muttered, knowing that whatever secrets International Rescue was keeping, it was helping them save the ones they loved. That was a feeling Merlin could still relate to, no matter how many lifetimes he had lived through in order to reach this point.

-X-

"You okay?"

"Sleep… please just let me sleep…"

Virgil grinned, reaching over and ruffling Gordon's hair. His brother didn't even have the energy to bat his hand away from where he was slouched in the co-pilot seat of Thunderbird Two.

They had barely touched back into base after freeing the miners when another call had come in. Their father had wanted to turn it down, saying they couldn't possible go straight out again. It didn't help that it was a military unit which was in trouble and that was always a grey area, the organisation needing to make sure their actions couldn't be made to look as if they were pledging allegiance to anyone. But Scott had cut in, saying it was close and wouldn't take more than a couple of hours at most. Virgil knew that he was not the only one to have tuned out of the bickering between his oldest brother and father, but before he knew it, they were on their way.

John had been forced to stay at home after the threat of a concussion after a slight accident in the mines, so despite the fact that he was tired, Gordon had had no choice but to come along. As per usual, Scott had flown ahead to try and assess what was happening, leaving the two younger brothers to go after him at a more leisurely pace.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two."

"Go ahead, Scott."

"We've got a group of five soldiers stuck on a cliff. A dam has broken further up the river and the water levels have left them stranded."

"F.A.B. Course of action?"

"You two get the men, I'm going to check whether they need any help with patching up that dam."

"F.A.B."

"Don't take too long, Grandma is making cookies. I'll report in when I know more about that dam."

Virgil confirmed his understanding and flicked off the communications. He knew the last part was nothing to do with Scott wanting cookies; it was his big brother wanting them to get home so they could actually spend a few hours just relaxing. Virgil knew that this would be their last call of the day, no one was up to doing anything more.

By the time Virgil turned to face Gordon, it was to find the younger man had already stood up, stepping into the harness that would attach him to the platform even whilst they had been speaking.

"You're going, are you?"

"As if you would let me take the controls."

Virgil smirked at the sound of hope in Gordon's voice. He knew that his brother would quite like to be able to claim that he had been the one to fly Two during a rescue, but there was no way that Virgil was about to let that happen. The look on Virgil's face had said enough and Gordon rolled his eyes, heading towards the main body of the craft from the flight deck in order to get into position. They were nearly there, Virgil knew that Scott must have been monitoring their progress to put his call in with such perfect timing.

No sooner had Gordon confirmed that he was all set and ready to go did Virgil locate the soldiers. They were pressed up against the rock face, meaning Virgil wasn't sure how much navigation room he had. He was somehow going to have to angle the platform in order to get it close enough, but leave enough room so that Two didn't touch the cliff. Swinging his 'bird around in order to approach from a different angle, Virgil swore.

"Gords, have you got visual?"

"One sec… yep, there we go. Oh you've got to be kidding me."

Virgil knew that he wasn't imagining what he thought he had seen. Only four of the men were standing, the fifth seemed to be on the floor. That was just what they needed, an injury. He only hoped that it was something simple, for he wasn't sure how focused he would be to deal with anything else.

"What do we do?"

"Stay with what we were going to do. You can assess him from there, and we'll switch if he needs more than basic first aid."

"F.A.B."

"Gords?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to be able to get them all on the platform?"

"Of course."

"How?" Virgil wasn't sure he wanted to have to hover for long enough for Gordon to make two trips, but the platform was only designed to hold five at most. Gordon had to be on it to operate it, meaning that they were a person too many.

"Magic."

"I can just see you as Harry Potter."

"What? No, Virg, I've got more style than that. I'm more like Merlin… just without the beard. Can't stand beards."

"When have you ever had a beard? Stand by, opening hatch now." Virgil could just make out the sounds of Gordon strapping himself to the platform as he opened the doorways that would enable him to lower the platform down. He waited until Gordon confirmed he was ready before skilfully bringing Two into a hover and winching Gordon out. Following his brother's instructions, he carefully lowered the platform down, eyes watching the monitors and hands flying over the controls as he maintained a steady course.

If he was honest, there wasn't a lot for Virgil to do apart from wait for Gordon's signal that they were all aboard. He knew Two better than anything else; he knew precisely how to keep her steady, no matter what the conditions were. He found himself wishing Gordon would hurry up; Scott had got him thinking about cookies now. Or more specifically, how much he would like to be able to just sit down and do nothing, not have to move or go off and rescue anyone for a while.

"Bring us up, Thunderbird Two."

Gordon's voice seemed an age in coming, and Virgil had to force himself to withdraw the platform steadily rather than jerking it up in his haste. At the same time, he moved Two away from the cliff, beginning to head back to the co-ordinates Scott had patched through for the drop off point. One glance at the cliff told him all he needed to know – Gordon had managed to get all the men up in one trip. Virgil decided that he simply wasn't going to ask, he wasn't sure that he wanted to know how his brother had managed it, and not knowing it meant that he couldn't accidentally report Gordon for not following protocol.

"Virg, think you are going to be needed."

"F.A.B." Swearing under his breath, Virgil eased himself from his chair, flicking Two onto autopilot as he did so. "Can you come and take the controls then? If the military are here, we don't know who else might be and I'm not taking any chances."

"F.A.B. Coming up now."

Virgil counted down under his breath, knowing how long it took Gordon to make the journey. As soon as he reached one, he left the flight deck, making sure to seal the door behind him. They couldn't take any risks, not if they had people on board. He wasn't sure whether it was the tiredness making him so paranoid or whether it was just past experience, but Virgil wasn't taking any chances.

This time, however, his fears were unfounded. He simply passed Gordon on the way up, clapping his hand on his brother's shoulder as he did so and receiving a nod in reply. It took him no more than a minute to reach where the victims were. Luckily, four out of the five appeared to be unharmed, although Virgil knew that soldiers were never going to admit to being in pain. Both Scott and Gordon had only confirmed that belief during his dealings with them. But the fifth was sitting up, even if his face was somewhat pale and he was clutching his leg to him. Virgil could see the bloody gash stretching down his thigh and winced in sympathy. Nothing too serious, but enough that Gordon would have wanted Virgil to take a look.

Or the prankster just really wanted to get his hands on Two, but generally Virgil trusted his brother to behave on rescues.

"Hey there. I'm here to take a look at your leg if that's okay? What's your name?"

"Leg's fine, let's just get these boys back to base."

Virgil knew that tone of voice, and it gave away that this was clearly the man in charge of the group. He had the same look about him that Scott tended to get when he thought that they were doing something too dangerous and he didn't want his brothers involved.

"We're heading back to your base now. So while we are doing so, how about I have a look?"

The man looked like he was going to protest again, but eventually sighed and stretched out his leg with a grimace. Virgil moved forward, taking it gently in his hands and tearing away the material so he could get a better look.

"What's your name?" He kept his voice gentle as his fingers began to probe, but the man jerked.

"Bloody hell, be careful would you?"

"You're a long way from home, buddy," Virgil said calmly, recognising a hint of Irish in the accent. The man fell back with a grunt, clearly trying to stop himself from swearing out loud and Virgil made swift work of cleaning the cut. The soldier had been lucky, it was a clean cut and the medic didn't even think that he would need stitches, just a secure bandage.

"Gwaine."

"What?"

"Think my name is funny, do you?"

"Believe me, man, I know all about that. I just didn't hear you, that's all." Virgil was quick to make sure that the man didn't take offence to his reaction, knowing that he was pretty much outnumbered down here. But the tension seemed to drain from Gwaine as he leant against the side of the 'bird, looking exhausted.

"Sorry. Didn't mean anything by it. Long day, you know?"

"Yeah," Virgil rested his hand on the man's shoulder sympathetically before turning away in order to pick up a roll of bandage.

"Merlin's not going to believe this one."

Virgil blinked, the corners of his mouth turning up. He made sure that he kept his face neutral as he turned back around and began wrapping up the leg. It was either a nickname, some poor guy's mother had been thinking crazily whilst giving birth, or just some sort of joke. Yet Gwaine didn't seem to be joking, and wondering if the pain was making him slightly delirious, Virgil decided the best thing he could do was keep him talking.

"That a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, he's a big fan of you guys. Tries to help out where he can, but hey, he's still only one guy. Although he has got his hands full with the princess right now. Ha! Arthur's going to have a fit on this one. He's already declared that he wants one of your machines and doesn't get why Merlin hasn't just snapped his fingers and got one."

"Sure…" Virgil hurried to tie off the bandage and backed away to the far side of the holding bay.

"Gords?"

"You okay?"

"Can you just double security measures? I think this guy is harmless, but he did just say some guy called Arthur wants his friend Merlin to get our machines. I know it is probably nothing and it's the pain making him talk, but I don't fancy losing my 'bird."

"F.A.B."

Virgil could hear the laughter in Gordon's voice and cursed himself for saying anything. If this turned out to be some sort of prank, Gordon was never going to let him live it down. Turning back to his patient, Virgil couldn't help but feel relieved that he had dozed off into an uneasy sleep, his men surrounding him.

It really was time to go home.