An old man sits silently in the cold breeze, rocking back-and-forth to a rhythm that only he understands.
He suddenly coughs roughly, holding his belly with one hand as the other brings a simple blue handkerchief to his mouth.
It is a windy afternoon in autumn, and the well-kept grassy ground is cool from beneath him. Around him, nature is quiet but for the whistling wind that ruffles his grey hair, and chills him to his ageing bones.
Despite this, he remains where he is, pulling his jacket tighter around his frail frame with wrinkled hands.
It is a bittersweet afternoon in September - the 27th to be exact. The old man is there once more, just as he always has been on the same day, every year, for the last six years.
He lets the cold numb him as his eyes close of their own accord, and he begins swaying back-and-forth again as a familiar tune continues to play in his head.
x X x
"What are you listening to?" Arthur asks curiously as he enters the café he had once brought Merlin when the other boy first walked into his life.
Merlin looks up and smiles, and Arthur thinks how amazing it is that such a smile is reserved just for him.
He is again reminded how worth it this is. How worth it Merlin is. Arthur knows he will go to the ends of the earth for this boy, do whatever it takes to prove to him that he isn't going anywhere, that he will love him as long as he should allow - if only Merlin would let him.
But Arthur also knows that he fucked up. He knows that this chance he's been given by Merlin is a very serious thing - knows that he doesn't even deserve to be friends with him at all.
"Oh, just a song Gwen told me about," Merlin says mysteriously, taking out his earbuds.
Arthur raises an eyebrow, but doesn't push it, knowing Merlin will probably tell him eventually.
"You coming tonight?" Arthur asks hopefully as he slides into a booth across from him. He, Gwaine, and Leon are going out for fish and chips, but Merlin still hasn't confirmed if he's going or not. Of course, it won't be as fun without him.
Merlin looks at him, a bit hesitant, and Arthur holds his breath. But he doesn't have to worry - not this time anyway.
Merlin's lips lift slightly as he nods. "Yeah, I'm coming."
x
Arthur and Merlin are making their way to a familiar park alone together after having supper with their other friends. The sun has gone down and the stars have come out, and it's a chilly, crisp night in November.
Merlin leads the way over to the swing set, and Arthur follows without complaint. The two sit in silence, swinging from side to side in the wind.
"You gonna tell me what you were listening to this afternoon?" Arthur asks, because he doesn't want to ruin the tranquility with hard questions and even harder answers.
Merlin smiles again, like he has done all night, and Arthur doesn't mind a bit. "It's called 'Chasing Cars'."
"Never heard of it," Arthur says promptly, because he hasn't - but he wants to. Anything that makes Merlin smile, Arthur wants to know about.
Merlin nods, swings a bit more, then plants his feet abruptly. He gets up and holds out a hand, and it's rather obvious he's just had an idea. "Come with me."
Arthur looks at him curiously, but takes his hand without hesitation, because this is Merlin, and Arthur would follow him to his own death if Merlin so much as wished for him to.
Merlin pulls him over to an empty field and, without a word, lays down in the grass.
This does, however, make Arthur question Merlin's sanity, as it is cold outside and their jumpers are too light to be laying on the icy ground. Not to mention Arthur hates the grass - it makes him all itchy.
But Merlin is looking up at him imploringly, and Arthur knows he's going to give in. For Merlin, he always does.
They lay, staring up at the vast, dark blue sky above littered with shimmering dots of light that illuminate the otherwise intimidating mass. They're huddled closely together to preserve body heat, and stay there for a couple minutes without saying a word, leaving Arthur none-the-wiser as to why they're laying there - not that he minds it.
But then Merlin shuffles around in his pocket for his iPod, pulling it out and messing around on it before a song begins to play.
They listen in silence, the only thing to be heard being the song as their breath leaves their lips in cloudy puffs of air.
When the song is finished, Arthur finally understands why Merlin had wanted to lie with him here. And he thinks he loves him a little bit more for it.
x X x
A sudden car horn blares, snapping the old man back to the present.
A considerable amount of time has passed, but he does not seem to mind. Instead, he rocks back-and-forth a bit faster in a last effort to warm himself up.
It happens every year, of course, but he refuses to go home until the day is over. He thinks the man he loves deserves that much.
x X x
Merlin is bouncing up and down in the passenger's seat, and Arthur can't blame him. He's excited, too.
They're on their way to the new flat they'd just purchased together, and it's a very exciting event if Arthur does say so himself.
They park on the side of the street by the small building their flat is located in. It isn't much, but that doesn't stop the happiness flaring through Arthur in waves.
The movers will be bringing their stuff along in a few hours, when Leon, Gwaine, and even Morgana are going to show up to help unpack.
Merlin jumps out of the car before Arthur even has time to turn it off, and then he follows suit a bit more slowly. He wants to take it all in.
Merlin is waiting for him by the door, bouncing on his heels, key firmly in hand. Arthur nods, and Merlin turns swiftly, sticking the key into the lock. He pushes the door open, and the sight of empty rooms and halls meets them, but Arthur can already see it.
He can see pictures on the walls of him and Merlin, their friends, and their family. He can see painted walls of Arthur's favorite color, a sea foam green, and crazy decorations that's all Merlin. He can see worn furniture, and little knickknacks that belong not only to them, but the people closest to them as well who like to stay over every once in awhile.
Arthur can see it all, and he cannot wait to share it with Merlin.
They stand in the middle of their not-so-spacious new home and smile at each other.
"So, you haven't changed your mind, then?" Arthur asks in a joking manner, but inside he's still been a bit worried that Merlin might not really want this after all.
Merlin gives him a look, the same one he always does when he thinks Arthur's being an idiot, but Arthur doesn't even have it in himself to feel indignant.
"Of course not, Arthur. I want this." The statement holds such finality that Arthur can't help but smile wide before wrapping his arms around Merlin's shoulders and squeezing the other man to himself tightly.
If he's completely honest with himself, he wasn't really sure they'd even last this long. It's been a long and winding road with many hurdles along the way, but they're still going strong - and Arthur intends to keep it that way.
x
They lay together, exhausted, on the carpeted flooring of their new home, their friends having already gone home after helping them unpack - though Morgana talked more than she helped - and the place is now littered with boxes.
"I can't believe we're really doing this," Merlin breathes, turning his head to look at Arthur, who has been staring up at the rather uninteresting ceiling for the better part of ten minutes.
Arthur turns his head to Merlin, his lips quirking up, fondness for Merlin filling his voice as he asks, "Is that a good 'I can't believe we're really doing this' or...?"
Merlin huffs a laugh, turning towards his boyfriend fully. "Yes, that's a 'good' I can't believe we're really doing this." He smiles beatifically, and Arthur's breath catches.
"Good," he says without much thought, mesmerized and a little bit besotted.
Merlin's deep blue eyes are sparkling, and Arthur finds himself getting lost in them. All his worries and doubts vanish in that moment, the only thing left being Merlin and Arthur, on the carpet, caught up in everything that is each other.
Arthur doesn't think he's ever felt a happiness quite like it.
x X x
Even more time has passed when the old man feels a brilliant chill go down his spine, relentless, and he finally begins to numb.
When he hears the noisy arguing of a young couple a ways away, he shakes his head and lets out another cough. He wonders why they don't realize that being together is more important than their incessant fighting, that it always will be more important.
But then he thinks that they have not yet seen what he's seen or known what he knows. And his heart starts to ache a little.
x X x
The door slams shut as Arthur strides angrily into the house.
He's had it up to here with his father. Forget the fact that Arthur has been a faithful employee (not to mention son) since he first got a taste of the business world when he was 15. Forget that he's done things against his own morals when his father has asked to more times than he cares to admit, and forget that he spends long nights at the office cleaning up messes he didn't even make in the first place when all he really wants to do is go home and fall asleep in his husband's arms. No, let's forget all that. Arthur fucks up once and his father sends him home, not even willing to hear his side of the story.
It's bollocks.
"Arthur? That you?" comes what should have been a soothing voice from the kitchen - unfortunately, Arthur's too angry to think anything of the sort.
"Who the fuck else would it be?" Arthur grumbles under his breath, but immediately regrets it. He hopes Merlin doesn't hear.
"Arthur?" Merlin asks again, coming out of the kitchen and into the foyer where Arthur is hanging up his coat.
"Hey," Arthur makes himself reply. He has to remind himself that Merlin isn't at fault here, and it wouldn't be fair to start shouting at him.
He knows he has been neglecting his husband, for a while now, but he doesn't know what to do about it. All he knows is that he definitely doesn't deserve Merlin.
"How was your day?" Merlin asks, wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck, kissing the corner of his mouth.
Arthur can smell the scent of his favourite meal, a roast, wafting from the kitchen, and he feels himself deflate a little. Merlin has always been there for him, has always seemed to know exactly what Arthur needs when he needs it, and Arthur really, really loves him.
"Not brilliant," he answers honestly, and just the truth of the statement starts to relieve his massive headache.
Merlin lets him collapse into his arms, and Arthur lets him be the strong one for the both of them in that moment.
"You're okay," Merlin whispers, over and over, and Arthur wants to weep. It's a bit pathetic really, but he's exhausted and overwhelmed, and Merlin is so wonderful, so amazing, he feels his chest constrict a bit and it's hard to breathe.
Arthur eventually finds himself lying on the couch, tucked tightly in Merlin's arms, dinner forgotten on the counter. He feels bad that Merlin went through so much trouble, only for it to go to waste because of his own incompetency.
Merlin reassures him over and over again until finally Arthur begins to pretend to believe him, and suddenly he's talking - just like he should've done a long time ago. Arthur talks and talks, about what's been bugging him, things he can't keep to himself any longer, and Merlin listens. The more he talks, the more he feels like he can breathe again, and he really isn't warranted such an understanding husband, but he's glad he has one anyway.
He promises himself that he'll try harder to be a better husband, because that's what Merlin deserves.
And if anyone were to look in their living room at one in the morning on that particular night, they'd find true lovers sleeping peacefully on a couch, wrapped up in each other's embraces for the first time in a long time.
x X x
The old man is brought back to the present to see the sun setting in the distance, the horizon lighting up in a pinkish-orange glow - a rather beautiful sight, really, for those who might take the time to stop and actually look at it.
He takes in where he actually is at the moment, and the thought of it still hurts - he figures it always will. But, amazingly, he thinks that maybe the lie 'Time heals all wounds' isn't so much the lie he thought it to be, years ago.
He doesn't think he'll ever heal completely, but as the memories of what used to be wash over him and thoughts of the best thing to ever happen to him flash through his head, he realizes it doesn't hurt as much to remember as it used to.
He realizes that maybe, just maybe, it might be all right to start moving on.
x X x
Arthur looks around the white and sterile room, taking in the bursts of color from what he can only describe as a 'garden' on all available surfaces that completely contrasts the white walls.
He really hates hospitals, he concedes, but the bright flowers given to them by the ones closest to them makes it a little bit more endurable.
It's hard for him to look at Merlin on that bed, hooked up to so many machines that Arthur feels sick. Neither of them are the young men they used to be, granted, but Merlin's skin is wrinkled, what's left of his hair has turned grey, and he's so skinny and sickly that Arthur aches for him even more than he aches for himself.
He takes a seat in the chair next to Merlin's bed and holds on to his bony hand. He's cried and he's raged about how unfair the world is already, and now he's just tired. He's no longer lying to himself about how Merlin will be all right. How he's going to get better, come back home, laugh at him for worrying so much, and go right back to the way it always was before.
And so he welcomes the numbness that floods his body, his limbs, his mind, and most of all, his heart. He knows that Merlin is in pain, has been for awhile now, and he refuses to deny it any longer. He just can't wish something like that on the man he loves more than anyone and anything else in the world.
Letting go is an almost impossible feat, and knowing he'll be gone seems entirely unbearable. So Arthur doesn't think about it.
If he does, he'll break.
He'll beg and beg Merlin to hold on a little longer, to fight a little harder, and he can't do that. He knows that Merlin has already suffered enough due to Arthur's refusal to see what was right in front of him, to realize that anything was wrong.
It's easier this way.
Merlin groans, and Arthur loathes the pain he hears in the sound. He detests the endless repetitions of 'Why?' echoing in his mind, because an answer never comes.
"Arthur?" Merlin croaks, and the sound is unrecognizable.
"I'm here, love," Arthur says, squeezing the hand he holds lightly as an extra reassurance.
Merlin coughs weakly, pulling at Arthur's arm with what little strength he has left. Arthur's heart flares painfully. "C-Come..."
Arthur understands at once, and stands from his chair. He pulls back the many sheets wrapped around his husband and crawls in, careful to rattle Merlin as little as possible. Once he's settled, he holds Merlin to his chest, kissing his forehead.
They lay there for long moments, and Arthur gets an incessant nagging feeling that he should say something. But every stupid little thing that comes into his head isn't good enough - not even close. Hopelessness washes over him, and he hates it, doesn't want this feeling to be the last he knows of Merlin.
"I..." he gasps, gulping and licking his lips. But no words will come out.
"It's okay, Arthur," Merlin manages, pouring out his love for Arthur in that one simple sentence. "I know."
Arthur lets out a breath, not even surprised. Merlin has always known and understood him better than anyone else. He can't and won't think about what he'll do when this is gone, because it just isn't something his brain will comprehend. So he doesn't.
He just lays.
x X x
The old man lets a single tear slide down his cheek at this particular memory. The last, if one were ever to ask.
Night has finally fallen, not unlike the one all that time ago, when he had lain with Merlin on a grassy field in a familiar park, listening to a song that had quickly become 'their' song.
His eyes are drawn to the stone in front of him, shiny in the starlight, yet still hard to read had the old man not known the words by heart.
Precious are the Memories
of
Merlin Emrys-Pendragon
January 1st, 1986 - September 27th, 2047
Believe what your heart
knows to be true.
That you have always been
And always will be.
The man pulls out his hands from his coat pockets where he couldn't remember having put them in the first place and pushes himself to his knees. Twisting around, he manages to get slightly more comfortable before lying down on the grass - still as itchy as ever - and folds his hands under his head.
There isn't a cloud in the sky, and the night is just as vast and awe-inspiring as it had been all those many years ago.
He starts to remember that night when he realized Merlin was his everything. He remembers his best friend, young and bright, destined for so many great things, and he remembers his partner, stunning and passionate, so full of love and kindness.
He remembers his sense of humour, his bravery and courage, and everything else that had stolen his heart from the get-go.
Arthur remembers his life with Merlin and lets everything else fall away.
x X x
"If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"
Chasing Cars
Snow Patrol