Disclaimer- Luckily for him, Merlin is not mine.
The silence was deafening.
When the only sound is the shallow breathing of the seriously ill, the only emotion is mourning for a life still lived, and you barley recognize the prone figure on the bed, it chokes you. There's no breathing, or thinking, or feeling.
I slowly become aware of a soft murmur, and look over to see Gaius, lank white hair framing his face, his eyes red from crying, whispering.
Begging.
As he held my servant's - my friend's- hand, he looked amazingly sad and somehow guilty, like he had since it was found that he could not cure Merlin of the infection ravaging his body.
I quickly glanced away. It was too personal, too private, for me to look at.
In all blatant honesty, Merlin had only himself to blame for this. It was his actions, his suicidal tendencies that had caused the wound that had landed him here.
I glance up guiltily from my thoughts. Gaius had spoken louder, this time addressing me.
"What?" I whisper. It seemed wrong somehow, to speak any louder.
"Would you like to speak to him?" Gaius repeats.
"No." I answer.
Any better? By the way, this is from Arthur POV, in case you couldn't guess.
Thanks to MagicGirl41 and elissan43 for reviewing!
