Chapter Three

Somewhere in his mind, it registered that this was a dream. At the same time he doubted that, remembering that he'd thought to himself "I must be dreaming, this can't be real," when it had actually happened, and the whole dizzying effect of the déjà vu and the dubious reality just spun him around in circles as he watched the pike tear through the young man. But it wasn't over, this wasn't victory; with his dying breath, the boy struck, screaming a curse with drove the sword through armor, then chain mail, then flesh—

An enraged roar tore out of him, from somewhere deep and instinctive. It was too late. He could already see that it was a corpse he cried for. He could already feel the death of Arthur all around him.

Colin jolted awake, a panicked, "Arthur!" escaping him.

"Don't be such a girl, Colin, it's just some turbulence." Bradley scratched something into the puzzle book he'd brought with him. He was addicted to Sudoku, and growled at Colin whenever he teased him about it. He'd say "There are a shortage of dragons these days, I need to stay sharp however I can."

"Are we there yet?" asked Colin groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"We'll be standing on the queen's England within the hour."

Colin tried to stretch, needing to feel the relieving popping of joints, but the close quarters made it difficult. Feeling a bit more awake than he had just a moment ago, he asked (and tried to sound chipper, to shake off the feeling of the nightmare), "Are you excited to go home?"

"It was Salisbury, wasn't it?" Bradley asked in a low tone, not looking up from his puzzle.

"No," lied Colin.

"Stop it, it was Salisbury Plain and we both know it."

"What makes you think it was Salisbury?"

"What do you think my nightmares are made of?" His brow furrowed, and he continued, "The clamor, the stench…the knowledge we were all about to die—Gwaine's head, split open next to me, the look on your face… I think we all have nightmares about it. What kind of men would we be if we didn't?"

The week had passed in such a crazed blur. Colin had barely had time to process what was happening, between packing his room up and frantically writing papers and taking tests to qualify for his end-of-the-year grades. He'd offered to stay the handful of months left before graduation, so he could walk and receive his diploma in person, just for his mother, but she'd hear nothing about it. She could see right through him, and knew how desperately he wanted to go to London, as soon as possible.

Now, suddenly, they were landing in London, moving into the apartment—he was finally going to find out who the fourth roommate was (Bradley insisted he would have to see for himself), and his most undesirable second life might end, replaced by the beginning of a highly desirable second life.

"Are you hungry?" Bradley asked suddenly.

"Uh—yeah, I guess so."

"I'm starved. We'll just drop our luggage at the flat and then we can go out to eat—there's this great Japanese place just down the street from us."

"Um—" 'I don't have any money, though,' thought Colin, 'none to spare, anyway—'

"I'm treating, of course," Bradley added quickly, as though he'd read Colin's mind. Colin made some noise of protest, and Bradley hit him with his puzzle book. "Shut up already, it's fine. You're employed by the Pendragons now, dinner comes with the benefits."

"What exactly does this 'employment' entail?"

Bradley laughed. "Get your head out of the gutter, Col, I'm hiring you as my Court Sorcerer. 'Course I don't really have a 'court' at the moment…"

"Right," said Colin, feeling the dark, hot blushing from his neck up to his ears. "B-but I'm not a sorcerer yet."

"Ten minutes with that book and you'll be better than ever before," Bradley said, jotting in the last few numbers to solve the puzzle. "You always were a hell of a lot smarter than I gave you credit for."

Colin was trying to think of something clever to say, as if to prove Bradley's assumptions of underestimation correct, but the plane suddenly shook and jolted again. He clutched at the armrests, one of which was already occupied by Bradley's arm.

The older boy didn't react except to calmly remove the younger's claw-like hand from his arm, saying, "Funny; you always seemed to love darting about with Kilgarrah."

"That was before they invented turbulence, you prat." Bradley chuckled, and Colin couldn't help but forget his annoyance. "What?"

"Nothing, just—no one has dared to call me that in a very long time. And then there's you."

xXx

The elevator halted, and the door opened. Bradley led the way, striding easily down the simply but classily furnished corridor. There weren't many doors in this hallway; not many people lived on this floor.

"I'll have a key made for you as soon as possible," said Bradley, fishing his own keys out of his pocket. "Until then, just don't go running off on your—" He paused, holding out a hand to halt Colin, "—own—do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

A minor crash resonated somewhere on the floor. "That." Bradley looked at the door at the end of the hall. There was the sound of glass shattering and the clamor continued. "Shit!" He dropped his luggage and ran toward the door, Colin close behind him. Swearing, he jammed the key into the lock and threw the door open. He nearly punched the wall. "FUCKING HELL."

Colin tried to nudge past Bradley to see what was happening.

"I THOUGHT THERE WAS A BREAK-IN OR SOMETHING," Bradley was shouting. The object(s) of his displeasure were apparently the two shirtless men having what seemed to be an epic battle in the living room, the remains of a glass-top coffee table scattered about them.

The larger, dark-haired man had the younger, blonde on in a headlock, and seemed completely unperturbed. "Bradley! You're back so soon!"

"I called, a week ago, I called and said I was coming home!"

"I must've been drunk—IS THAT MERLIN?" Gwaine shoved the younger boy away and bounded across the room to catch his long-lost friend in a bear hug. "YOU FOUND HIM!"

"I CALLED AND TOLD YOU—Fuck it, just fuck it."

"Don't say that, he'll take it literally," said the blonde boy, rubbing his neck, while Bradley continued, "You're useless, Eoin, abso-fucking-lutely useless!" When Eoin let go of the newcomer, he embraced him as well, saying "Good to see you, Merlin! Been a while, eh?"

"A bit." Colin smiled. He'd never have thought—Arthur, Gwaine and Garret, sharing a flat in London. How had they not all murdered each other? Or rather maybe, how had Arthur not murdered the other two? "Alex, right?"

"And the giant mass of idiot is Eoin," snarled Bradley, surveying the damage. "Seriously, what the hell?"

"We were sparring," said Eoin, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, calm down."

"You're paying for it."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"CLEAN IT UP."

"Yes, my lord," purred the other man suggestively.

"EOIN." Bradley grabbed—a pillow, of all things! off the couch and hit Eoin over the head with it.

"Oi, none of that!" Eoin grabbed the other pillow and struck back.

Colin looked on in frozen conflict (should he intervene—should he laugh, as Alex was doing?), as the once and future king and his most courageous knight battled with as proper form as possible using pillows.

"Is that even the coffee table that was here when I left?"

"Does it matter?"

"How many?"

"…Does it matter?" Bradley swiped Eoin's feet out from under him and pressed a foot to his chest to keep him on the floor.

"How many tables did you replace with my card?"

"We only used your card for three of them," said Eoin. "So…those are the only three you should be worrying about, yeah? Arthur, really, calm down—you're scaring the child."

Bradley rolled his eyes, but helped Eoin to his feet. "Why aren't you at the estate?"

"It's my day off this week."

"Lucky you; dinner at Oshiro, I'm buying, but you'll have to put on a shirt—both of you." As the other two scampered off, Bradley shot Colin a fatigued look. "If I don't say it, they honestly won't do it."

"Look at you, Mr. Responsibility, all parental and everything," said Colin as he and Bradley went back out into the hall to retrieve their things.

"I did bring together an entire country, you know!" grumbled Bradley as they dragged the luggage into the apartment. "I am more than capable of handling those two children."

"Well, at least you're not alone anymore—I can help you now," said Colin cheerfully.

Bradley scoffed "Like you could handle children."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm the father who disciplines them and you're the softie mother who gives them cookies."

"Hey why do I have to be the mother?"

"Well, I'm certainly not the mother."

"I wasn't the one having a pillow fight like a middle school girl."

"No, you were just the damsel in distress trapped under a bookshelf." Bradley smirked. "Come on, I'll show you your rooms—my lady."

Colin attempted to hit the offending prat with his messenger bag (loaded to fatality with hardcover books), but it was too heavy for him, and he didn't even come close—unless by close you mean hitting himself in the knee. "Ow…" he said weakly, stumbling.

xXx

It was like being at a family reunion, Colin thought; seeing people that you know as well as yourself, but have not seen for a very long time. You still know them just as well, but you've missed a bit of their lives, and in the relating of the information you feel as though you hadn't missed anything at all.

Alex, barely older than Arthur, was just as optimistic and intrigued as ever. Colin could still see in him the boy that they'd found in the kitchens of Camelot to replace Merlin as Arthur's manservant. And yet somehow that boy was overshadowed beyond recognition by the man who had fearlessly devoted his existence to Arthur and his cause. There was also something else that could not be hidden.

"So did you find Lynette?" asked Colin. The moderate din of the popular restaurant was more than enough to mask their conversations; they could talk about anything they liked. "Bradley told me you went and found her in France."

"Well…yes and no," Alex's face twinged, as though the thought produced pain he wanted to conceal, "I did find her—your age, American, named Karen, and luckily enough, in Paris on a school holiday. I went to get her, but you Americans are bloody protective of your young. I barely got near her. Besides," he took a gulp of his drink, "she doesn't remember."

Oh, how that must hurt… Colin thought. Garret and Lynette had been a fairy tale gone right, absolutely perfect for one another, especially once they'd realized it themselves. Trying to imagine Lynette with anyone but Garret was like…imagining Guinevere with anyone but Arthur.

"She'll come 'round, lad, don't you fret," Eoin assured him.

Eoin was still a child at twenty-four, and, due his lack of anything resembling work ethic, had a cushy job as a part-time bodyguard.

"The little witch is—well, she's a witch—but it's good pay for just keeping an eye on Daddy's little princess a few days a week," he said. His gaze shifted beyond Colin, and a smile cracked across his face. "Speak of the she-devil—"

Bradley groaned, "Oh no—!"

"You seem pleased to see me," said a petite, pale girl with dark, dark hair tumbling in waves down her back. She was absolutely beautiful to behold—but terrifying given the fact that she was—

"Morgana!" Colin choked out, nearly falling off his tall-legged chair in an attempt to put distance between them.

"Hello, Merlin," she smiled at him, with a devious glow all about her. She looked back at Bradley, "You didn't tell me you found him."

"I didn't think it would interest you much."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not as though we'll be arranging play dates, Katie," said Bradley scathingly. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Dad's working late—"

"Gasp," said Bradley, deadpan.

"—so Rupe and I ordered take-away."

"Just glad it's not me," said Eoin, leaning back in his chair. "You never leave me any sushi."

"Liar."

"You're a sushi fiend!"

"She needs the extra protein, Eoin," said Bradley, "she's still hoping to grow a few more inches."

An infuriated Katie began punching Bradley in the shoulder, while he continued, fending her off and laughing, "Maybe one day she'll be tall enough to ride a roller coaster!"

"You're such an arse!" she snarled, but even she couldn't completely contain her laughter.

"This is so weird," said Colin, more to himself than anybody, but it still drew the others' attention. "It's—It's Morgana! She tried to kill us all—she succeeded in killing most of us!"

"Can't a girl make a few mistakes?" she asked, all coy and sarcasm.

The look that came over Bradley's face when he looked at Colin, the tone his voice took—he was Arthur again, Merlin's wise, caring, far-too-forgiving Arthur, whom Merlin could never hope to match, he was so great a man. "It's been a long time since then, Merlin, and we have all learned a great deal from our many mistakes."

The words sort of hung in the air for a moment, the utter truth of it ringing straight into each of them, the background noise dulling to a hum… The table they sat at was square, but the feeling was unmistakably familiar.

It was a family reunion.

"Right then," said Katie, and she mussed Bradley hair just to annoy him, "I'm off. Ta!"

Bradley smirked as he smoothed his hair back down. "She may be a witch, but at least now she's my witch."