Hey Guys! I apologize for uploading this so late, but I didn't know where I wanted this story to go and I had little to no time to write it... BUT I managed to scrape something together. I have a sort of outline for the story now- that's a bonus, so you can expect not to wait a month for the next chapter. :)

Enjoy some modern Merlin, because we're going back in time soon!

Chapter Two

That was when he began his preparations. Merlin went back to his normal age of twenty seven to start the cycle again. He bought a flat in London, equipped with a bed, a flat screen TV, a bookshelf and a lot of coffee.

He began by reading up the old texts, to see if someone had attempted to travel back in time before. Yes, in fact, several people had. Attempted that is, they all failed.

Seeing that old magic texts weren't going to help him, Merlin resorted to the magic of the modern age, that is, theoretical physics. He had gone to the library and checked out about 20 books on space-time and time dilation, receiving an eyebrow from the nice lady who helped him.

After a while, the books began to repeat themselves. Minkowski Space… two cones touching an observer on a plane… decaying muons… atomic clocks… one twin on earth, another not…a complicated unnecessary amount of equations… it was honestly all rubbish. Merlin had never thought he could read something so interesting, yet also an utter waste of time.

But he would try, because it was the best idea he had.

It would take a while, he was certain of that, but time was the one thing he had no limitation of.

Two years after his epiphany, and the beginning of his research, he found himself sitting in some chain coffee store, warm drink in one hand, time travel book in the other.

"Hello?" Someone waved a hand in front of his face, and he abruptly looked up from his reading, his eyes adjusting to the girl in front of him.

"Ermm… hi?" He replied, his eyebrows knotting together in confusion. He hadn't made any friends in this cycle, of that he was sure. Did he know this girl?

"Sorry, there's no other place to sit, do you mind?" She said, gesturing to the seat in front of him. Merlin relaxed a little and nodded and turned back to his book before he heard her say "Ta!"

Merlin flipped the page, when he heard the girl clear her throat. He looked up and she asked, "What are you reading?"

"A book." He replied sarcastically.

"Well, obviously." she laughed, "About what though?"

Merlin sighed, putting the book down. He knew when people wanted to talk, and he supposed that it would be better to not stall the impending conversation. "Time travel."

"Time travel? That's exciting." She had a cockney accent, Merlin noted. "Like the Doctor?"

Merlin blinked.

"You know, the Doctor!" She said, her eyes widening. "Don't tell me you don't know him?"

"The Doctor?" Merlin asked, "Doctor who?"

"Exactly." She nodded sagely. When she noticed Merlin's confusion, she chuckled. "It's this show on the telly. BBC? No? I can't believe you haven't heard of it, honestly."

"I don't watch much." Merlin said, which was true. He had once watched a cartoon version of what happened in Camelot, called "The Sword in the Stone", and he feared the television ever since. He never wore a pointy hat, thank you very much.

"Well, if you like time travel, you probably should. It's quite good."

And that was how Merlin ended up watching nine seasons of a show called "Doctor Who". He was sad to say that he didn't learn much except that time was actually a big ball of timey-wimey wibbly wobbly stuff. That wasn't much help to say the least, although it was a good break from the small-print books he was looking through before.

By the time the idea came to him, he was almost thirty—that is to say, he looked about the same as he did when he was twenty-seven, but he had collected a permanent 5 o' clock shadow, his eyes had begun to crinkle, and his large ears were covered with his shaggy overgrown hair.

He hadn't left his flat in a week, and Merlin groggily walked into the kitchen, only to discover that he had run out of milk. And bread. Actually, now that Merlin properly looked around, he had run out of any edible substance. Too hungry (or perhaps lazy) to even think about actually walking to the store, Merlin sighed and blinked.

Within the amount of time it took to blink, he had transported himself to the store and he began to idly saunter through the aisles, reaching for some canned soup, carrots, cold cuts, coffee—anything that started with a "c" because Merlin liked to choose food based on the alphabet, just to switch things up. After paying, he teleported back to his flat and turned the stove on.

Teleportation.

It wasn't that new of a concept. Merlin had learned to teleport shortly after Arthur left. But, perhaps, he could learn to teleport not only through space, but through time itself.

So he practiced. Teleporting was instantaneous, its idea came inherently with slowing down time, but reversing time? That was the tricky part. Instead of envisioning a place, Merlin envisioned a moment. He decided to start simple.

Five minutes.

The first time he accomplished this, he hadn't even realized right away. He was sitting cross-legged on his living room floor, trying to jump with his mind, concentrating on himself that morning (which was quite difficult seeing as his neighbors were screeching like newborn goats—'My mum told me what a worthless pig you are, Harold, she said you wouldn't get off your arse if the world was ending! But did I listen to her? No! Should I have? Yes!'). When he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. The late afternoon sun still filtered through the curtains, his bed was still made, and he could still hear his neighbors arguing loudly next door—'I can't right now Martha, would you stop pestering me?' 'Pestering you? PESTERING YOU? That's it! You're leaving right now!' 'But Martha love—'He glanced at his watch… it was 4.02 pm. Sighing, he looked at his clock… it was 3.57.

'...if the world was ending! But did I listen to her? No! Should I have? Yes!'

For the first time, it seemed like he was getting somewhere. Throwing his head back, Merlin barked out a laugh.

Giddy with excitement, Merlin jumped off his bed and ran into the kitchen before running into the hall and knocked loudly at the door next to his, "Harold mate, Martha!" He shouted, the argument stopped immediately, a tense and angry and very pregnant Martha opened the door, "What do you want Ambrose?"

"Here." He said, thrusting a bucket of ice cream at her, "It's good, it has pecans and caramel and should last a couple hours until the game is over so Harold can go get you another batch then and then you don't have to kick him out and he doesn't have to listen to you talk about your, quite frankly, frightening mother, and you can have little Amelia after two months and the three of you can live together happily as one big family, never having to leave each other's side because let me tell you, that's a dreadful feeling, but don't worry because there's always hope, you can always be together so don't fight and shout over ice cream, not worth it, next time Martha, if you want ice cream, you let me know, I'll get it, now just go in there and watch the game with Harold and eat it."

He stopped, slightly out of breath and Martha stared at him with a bewildered expression on her face and Harold blinked behind her, "Amelia?"

"Yeah, that's her name. The ice cream's good. It has pecans and caramel." And with that, Merlin broke into a great big smile and walked back to his flat, with more plans for travelling in time.

Soon it became days, weeks, years. It was only slightly terrifying when he traveled back a week and frantically realized he didn't know how to go back to the present. But it actually wasn't all that difficult, in fact, jumping forward in time was much easier than jumping into the past.

He realized that if he traveled more than roughly a year back, he did not appear as himself anymore, but as a separate entity than the self that was currently living. One time he visited a pub he used to go to thirty years ago, when he looked like he was in his fifties. He saw himself with his greying hair and pointed nose, cradling a beer and talking to Robert, his friend who had passed only a few years ago at the age of 89. Merlin smiled fondly from the shadows at himself and Robert, laughing about something or other. He frowned and suddenly wondered what would happen if he were to change something dramatic. If he remembered correctly, this was the two nights before Robert's wife had a heart attack and passed away. If he saved her, what would happen? Would he disrupt the space-time continuum? Would he have a future to return to? Would it make that much of a difference?

Butterfly effect anyone?

He didn't test the theory and kept mostly to the shadows when he travelled back in time. If he changed the past and ergo changed the future, Merlin was afraid that he may never have figured out time travel to begin with and therefore would not be able to go back to Arthur.

So he remained a silent, invisible figure, watching parts of his past: hiding in bomb shelters in World War II, dancing with Elizabeth in the early 1800's, hiking with Gregory and Parvati through the Himalayas, watching Aithusa die in his arms…

It was with great anxiety when Merlin decided he was ready. He was ready to go back to the life he had once known.

He chose a relatively normal day. The clouds hung overhead, as usual. He could hear little Amelia giggling next door as Martha and Harold worshipped her every move. Several drivers honked their horns agitatedly as old Mrs. Perkins took her time crossing the road. He wore his favorite (in this cycle) pair of dark jeans and worn grey hoody.

Breathing deeply, Merlin sat cross legged on his bed and pictured Camelot. He pictured a cheerful and good Mordred. He pictured a resilient Gwen on the throne and he pictured the knights laughing together around a campfire. He pictured the stables, clearly un-mucked, and Gaius' eclectic room. He pictured Arthur throwing a goblet at him, laughing the entire time.

And then he jumped.