Lost Tears
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Merlin, beachside if I did, Arthur and Merlin would be together.
Chapter 2
A women turned to see her boss.
"Sir, stabliziation at 53%" a man with a scar running down his face smirked at the blond women talking to him. He then turned to his boss, the Blond woman with brown eyes. Her eyes eyed the giant tube before them.
"soon, once he's stabilized, we can rewrite his memories." she smirked and walked closer to the glass and rapped her long, red painted, fingernails against it, making an odd thumping noise.
"Yes, and then we will be the strongest people in the world." their voices were defined by Russian accents.
"yes, and then the world will be ours." the blond laughed softly looking over to her Burnett partner.
"sir! He's communicating with someone outside of the facility." the Burnett snapped around and glared at the small women before him.
"how is that even possible!" he shouted out, but in a soft whisper as well.
"With this kind of power," the blond gasped out as she placed her hand on the warm container," anything is possible."
-
"Arthur are you sure you're okay?" Arthur's fuzzy head was finally clearing up. The wedding was over and they were now at a bar celebrating the wedding. Lancelot was hugging Gwen, and softly kissing her cheek as she laughed at Gwaine. What Gwaine was doing, and why? Arthur really didn't want to know.
"yeah I'm fine, perfect actually." Morgana eyed him, looking him up and down.
"You're getting paler Arthur, ever since this morning." she softly touched his hand almost to reasure him. Arthur took in the air, the musky crowded air.
"maybe I need some air." with that the golden blond stood up, leaving his drink, and walked out of the dark green door. The air outside, though smelling oddly off, still smelt cleaner. He couldn't get that voice out of his head.
It was a young boy's voice, maybe an older teenager. He couldn't figure it out. That voice, it burned into his soul. Called out to his very being, and yet he couldn't figure out why. His heart clenched up at the prospect. The cries of help that had echoed in his head, the ones that had bounced around and burned his mind. They stuck with him, he could still feel someone reaching out but the words seemed to not reach him. And that voice, that thick Irish accent of the boys voice; Arthur loved that voice. It may have seemed wrong for him to say this but, he wished he could hear it again.
But something seemed off, of course the boy screaming help had startled him, and the thought that he was hearing things, but something else was off. The prospect of the boy being cut off. The last time he had heard the young boy had been a few minutes ago, he had been screaming about finding someone. But everytime, every single time he had been cut off before he could finish what the name was. But all he could tell was that it started with a 'G'. But that could be anyone!
Arthur sighed, this whole thing was making him sick, his heart and stomach clenched up at the thought. He had never gotten this sickly before, not even before a mission. Not once. So why now? Why did this horrific feeling start now?
Arthur took in one more deep breath, trying to catch his breath. The buzzing within himself was growing. Was the Irish boy going to talk again.
"A-th-"
"c-bi-r"
"fi- g-"
"fi-g-"
"hel-pl-s-hel"
"hur-"
"hur-ar-th-"
Arthur sighed, it had been breaking in and out, he could now only get bits and pieces. What was that poor boy trying to say? He could make out the bits of help and Arthur, but he couldn't truly understand.
"Arthur!" a dark skinned women ran out to meet the blond. Gwen stood next to him and eyed him up then down.
"what's wrong, you've been out for awhile." she pushed some of her dark curly hair behind her ear. Arthur sighed.
"Gwen, I think I've gone crazy." Arthur sighed and ran his fingers through his silky hair. Gwen's warm brown eyes seemed to sparkle as the sun set.
"hey! You're fine, I'm sure of it." Gwen insisted as she watched the now pale stressed man before her. But Arthur wasn't so sure. That voice, it was Irish, he had never met an Irish person before, it was impossible for his mind to imaginate it up right. He had never heard that voice before, it was new to him. And the thing that most likely scared him the most was that he really wanted to help that poor boy.
"what's really wrong Arthur? We both know you're lying." Gwen stated as the back door opened again to reveal Lancelot.
"oh, this is where you two ran off to." he stated walked behind Gwen and hugged her from behind.
"yeah, Arthur was just telling me about what was bothering him, weren't you Arthur?" she gestured for him to continue, Lance watched him questioningly.
"Something been bugging you lately?" he asked unraveling himself from his dark skinned, newly made, wife.
"you'd think me crazy." Arthur stated turning away from the newly weds.
"only a little." Gwen laughed happily.
SNAP!
"ARTHUR!" Arthur's mind shut off and was over tooken, images flashed before his mind.
Guns, gunshots. Blood. Gold...gold everywhere, it bled through the boy's veins, and poured into his eyes. Destruction, tears, and that gold. The gold blew within the boys soul, and held him together. The boy's mouth moved, kept moving, and repeating the same word over and over again. A word that was important to him.
"Draíocht"
"What?" Lancelot asked coming closer to Arthur.
"what does that mean?" Arthur asked grabbing Lancelot's shirt.
"Please! Tell me what that means!"
"what language is it!" Lancelot almost shouted trying to stop Arthur from choking him.
"Gaelic!" he shouted back out to Lancelot.
"I don't know! I don't know!"
"ARTHUR STOP IT!" Gwen stared to pull on Arthur's arm, and Arthur let go.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what over came me." Arthur pulled back.
-
Arthur sat down at the computer. His fingers ghosted over the keys typing away at the ivory squares. He searched the whole Internet for some sort of sign of the word that started with a 'D'.
What on earth could that word mean, he knew it was important. He knew it was! The Irish boy wanted him to know it, but what was it. The buzzing in his head had stopped meaning the boy wasn't going to contact him any time soon.
-
"Gauis, we've recieved a signal of some sort." the elderly man turned to see the younger man.
"what do you mean, a sort of signal." Gauis asked as he watched the reciever on the ship.
"look there." the paler, younger, man pointed to the screen where a soft spot appeared. It glowed red and slowly was growing bigger by the second.
"what is that, sir?" a third man asked as he watched the screen and the red dot grew.
"Send the Airforce." Gauis stated softly eyeing that small, spreading dot.
"Sir, what about your team?" a women asked staring at the ananomy. Gauis tiredly gazed up at the new recruit named Mary.
"I promised them a week, it's barely been a day, send the Airforce to assets the situation."
"But sir-" the woman was cut of by the elderly gentlemen.
"Do as I say soldier!" she took a step back and watched the red dot that grew like a virus.
"but sir, if this continues it'll reach nuclear power." she insisted. Gauis only gave her a raised eyebrow, one of which only he could give someone.
"well you see, sir, this here, is an energy source, maybe some type of weapon, not a signal, well it could be considered one but still." she pestered once more before Gauis only sighed.
"My men deserve rest."
"I agree sir, but-"
"send the Airforce." the women put a diss approving gaze on the older man and walked off ready to signal the Airforce of their new task. The other two men only nodded and walked off. But Gauis stayed. He placed his wrinkled hand on the glass. The red dot grew and grew.
"please...please let it be true." he whispered softly to himself before closing his eyes and turning away.
-
"Mama?" a raven haired boy asked as he turned to his mother. She was washing dishes, her long Burnett hair was tied up in a blue cloth.
"Yes grá?" she didn't turn around, she kept moving her arms, scrubbing away at the scum on the white porcelain dishes.
"where's athair(1)?"
SHATTER!
Pieces of glass lay around the women. Yet his mother still did not turn to him. Her hands were shaking and all the boy could do was stare at her. Why was she shaking so much.
"Your father, Balinor, is on vacation." she softly added, and her voice wavered. The young 6 year old knew, he knew his mother was lying.
"please, grá. Drink your bainne(2), k?" but he wouldn't have it, he needed to see her face. But he knew, if he did, he knew they would be wet with tears. He lied about not knowing where his father was. He had seen his father, he had seen him being taken by men in black. With a blond women, that blond women with a long white jacket.
She scared him.
Every night his dreams we're haunted by that women. Her deep brown eyes as she grabbed his father's head.
"you're power will be mine." she whispered, and everytime, at that moment, the little boy knew, he knew something was terribly wrong. She smirked and a brown haired man would run up to her and ask something that confused him.
"but madam? We could use him." the woman only shook her head.
"why? He'll just fight us anyways." and then, his father would fall limp, and where his body should be was always, ALWAYS, a pile of ash.
"stabilization at 61%"
-
A/N:OOOOH! The plot thickens...ish
Now! I have a MISSION for you my lovely readers!
You must tell me want : Draíocht means, k!
Love to know what you think it is!
(1)-Father
(2)-milk
