After the sad realization there was not enough Merlin/Night Shift crossover anything, I decided to try and render that a bit. So here. Take this and enjoy.


Café Meetings

They get together once every two weeks. At least, that's the plan. Between crazy doctor things and crazy army things, it becomes more of a once-every-two-months-if-not-more thing. Though one year they actually did meet once every two weeks. It lasted three-and-a-half months.

"So tell me again why you're not with Jordan?"

"…It's complicated."

"You didn't have to break up with her. You could've just stayed together."

Suddenly, the coffee didn't taste so good anymore. "Well, she refused my proposal and then started acting weird. So."

"She refused your proposal 'cause she'd just lost a baby. It's emotional stuff."

The air went from pleasant to uncomfortably warm. It wasn't a day-at-the-beach kind of warm either. It was a dessert heat, an Afghanistan type of warm.

"I'm sorry, TC. I crossed a line."

"Yeah, Merls, you did." TC took a breath. "It's okay. I mean, it's not. But it's what's best for her."

"What about you?"

Damn those blue eyes. So earnest. So innocent despite the fact that TC knew better. Merlin could get away with almost anything because of those eyes. Well, his eyes and that other little attribute.

"It doesn't matter what's best for me. I'm not the one who lost a baby." He gulped down the rest of his coffee, wishing he could enjoy the flavor. Or that the flavor was a bit stronger. Like whisky. Or vodka. "So how's the army still treating you? Found him yet?"

It was always the best way to get Merlin off a subject. Start talking about him.

"Not yet." The frown on his face told TC that Merlin knew exactly what he was doing, but the softness in his eyes prevented him from any further discussions. At least for today. "I'm actually thinking of taking a break from it. It's been, what? Ten? Fifteen years? If I haven't found him in that war yet, I won't find him now."

"Leaving the war, eh? That's not so easy."

"No," Merlin agreed, and that far-off look reminded TC of every nightmare he ever had. "But it's not my first war I'll be returning from. I know how to handle myself."

TC nodded. Then took a swing from his coffee cup, grateful for the taste of hard liquor running down his throat. When he set it back down, he stared at its empty contents, hoping more alcohol would show, but Merlin wasn't quite as keen about his love of drinking in this life. The cup remained woefully empty.

"What will you do then?" he asked, looking back at his friend.

Merlin put his own coffee cup down, which was still filled with actual coffee. "You mean after I barricade myself in a secluded cabin until I can control my nightmares? I think I'll go into teaching."

"What would you teach?"

A wry smile lighted Merlin's face.

"History."

The people around them glared as TC's booming laugh echoed throughout the café. It was soon joined by Merlin's. The other customers would just have to suffer through the sound of two friends sharing their private amusement with the world.

"I haven't laughed so long in years." TC wiped his tear-stained cheeks. His smile stretched so wide his whole face hurt, but he loved it.

"Me neither," Merlin said, his own face painted with tears and blotches of red.

"Will you stay in America? Teach here or in England?" TC asked.

"Not sure yet. I'll cross that bridge when I get there." He stood up, stretching his arms, reminding TC that this was not the same scrawny kid his memories kept insisting Merlin was. No, this Merlin was stronger—physically and mentally—and much, much older. And, TC thought sadly, more vulnerable. Even without the threat of losing his head or being burnt at a pyre, this world was so vastly different from the one of his memories. Not just the laws and the buildings and the beliefs, but also the people. One person in particular was still missing.

"I should get going. My team's going to start looking for me." He looked at his watch. "And I believe your shift starts in about ten minutes."

TC shrugged, not worrying about being late. The ER was a five minute drive away. "I'll be there you when you get out. First face you'll see," he promised. "And before you disappear on me, we're having lunch. Or dinner. Hell, even breakfast. Just—we're having real food. Not this, coffee and muffin café food. Real food."

Laughing again, Merlin said, "I'll hold you to that." Then, because this was Merlin, he embraced TC in a hug that definitely lasted longer than it should have, but TC was holding him back just as tightly.

"Be careful out there."

"You know I am."

With a wave, Merlin walked down the sidewalk, disappearing as some jogger ran by him, momentarily blocking him from view. TC looked around, thinking that there would be someone who noticed the vanishing tick, but as always, no one batted an eye.

Sometimes he didn't believe his memories. Camelot? Magic? Him being a Knight? A knight of the round table? Seems absurd. But then he and Merlin get together and it clicks right back into place. The past was real, the present is real, and magic will always be a part of Merlin's—and consequently TC's—life.

But for now, he paid the bill, put his helmet on, and rode to work. He had lives to save. And who knows? Maybe Arthur will be one of those lives today. After all, he's a reincarnation. Maybe Arthur was too.

When a blonde-headed man came in on a stretcher half-way through the shift, yelling from the pain of a sword sticking out of his chest, TC's heart almost stopped.

But the man's eyes were the wrong color and his nose was too crooked. And the Gwaine in TC knew that this was not his king.