Alright so arthur's like really felingsy and im sorry and it's kinda ooc but idc, it was necessary.
Warning: Graphic images of a dead body, blood, gore, that stuff.
Merlin and Gwaine stare at the Elena, three completely sickened looks covering their faces as Arthur gazed at them. Never had the Pendragon, Prince of everything he wanted to be part of, felt so utterly useless. He watched, jaw tight and eyes hard as the three moved in a flurry, collecting coats and camera's and nearly falling over each other to get out. Arthur sat, hands buried in his lap, and eyes on the floor as he waited for the investigators to leave the office.
"Princess," Gwaine said, grinning like an idiot, even if the look didn't quite reach the depths of his eyes. "Gonna sit there looking tragic, or gonna come with us?" Arthur barely hid his smile, because this was a crime and one had to be professional, as he pushed to his feet. Narrowing his eyes at the DI, who saluted him, he followed the trio outside.
This was Arthur's first real chance at a real case as a real detective. He'd cracked a few cases while studying criminology in Uni, and had always been talented at reading suspects like open books; but never had he actually had a gun on his hip and badge in his pocket. This case was real, this case mattered to all of Europe, and to Merlin. Because, even if he tried to pretend he didn't, Arthur's new flatmate somehow mattered. They'd known each other only a week and a half, but Arthur never wanted to see him cry again. It was worrying, honestly, that he grew so attached to some genius he knew almost nothing about.
A quick taxi ride got them all to the scene, where the forensics crew buzzed like nats and passerby flashed pictures to instagram. Everything was loud, lights flashing like shouting voices in the night, people pushing and prodding to get a better view. It made Arthur sick, but also the rolling sense of wrongness in his gut made him drain of color. If the other two men noticed, they stayed blessedly silent.
"What is it this time?" Gawain asked, and Arthur could yet make out the body. All he saw was dark chocolate hair hanging off the side of a bed.
"The symbol means...royalty." Merlin said, brow scrunching together. "What the hell is their message?"
"Maybe there isn't one."
"No," Merlin said, and his voice was cold and determined in the silence. "No, they're telling a story. They want us to read their story." Merlin sounded so heartbroken, hatred and grief fighting in the tremors of his voice as he stalked around the mattress. Arthur's view of the body was blocked by bumbling idiots, but he could see the room clearly. Pale walls with pealing paint, a mattress with no sheets lying on a rotten wood floor, blood dripping slowly from the white fingertips of this woman.
"Have we identified her yet?" Gawain asked one forensics worker, and finally Arthur was able to see the body. Never once had he wished so desperately to unseen something. Thin, white, skin pulled over the bones of her gaunt face, elegantly square jaw hung open in a look of shock. Faint lines from smiling to much framed her wide, tortured brown eyes, even if she was barely in her twenties. Two braids pulled dark brown hair from her face, and the rest was wavy, blood drying on the ends. Her chest bared a symbol Arthur didn't recognize, but still it made him want to pass out. Veins scrawled around the bloodied gashes, skin torn around each opening that caught sticky red liquid, holding it there in bubbles.
"Mithian." Arthur said in a gust of breath, and everyone turned to him. His eyes were flying over the body, his hands shaking, and his entire posture looking like a man just beaten. Merlin was beside him in a second, and Gawain was close behind. Both men drug him from the scene, leaving the sound of bustling and the smell of tulips soaked in blood behind. "Mithian, that was Mithian." He repeated, dropping onto the hood of the nearest police car, propping his face in his hands as his body shook. Arthur wasn't crying, the tremors were more like shivers, like a blizzard had unleashed itself within him.
Arthur buried his finger in his hair, and he felt numb. A slow shock filling his body, replacing the cold with a void of absolutely nothing. "Mithian's dead." He said, more to himself then to Merlin, who was running a hand lightly over his shoulder in attempted comfort. They sat there, it could've been years for all Arthur knew, until Merlin drug him home.
Gaius helped Merlin lead is shell shocked flatmate up the stairs, and was soon set on making his newest tea miracle. He said it would help Arthur relax, and hopefully avoid any form of panic attack. Merlin just sat beside Arthur, who was staring at his hands with dead eyes, close enough for comfort but not touching. They stayed like that, switching from tea to coffee around 4 am, until Arthur spoke as the first lights of day invaded the glass world around them.
"She was," Arthur's voice was breaking, and Merlin tried to explain that he didn't need to know. "I don't care, I have to say it, make it...real." After a few deep breaths Arthur was able to speak, and his voice made Merlin ache deep in his bones. "She was my closest friend as a child, we grew up together, she and my sister and I. When I left for Uni she went to Africa for some relief program. She was so selfless and honest and...God why would anyone kill her?" Arthur said the last part to himself, and then the mug in his hand was flying across the room and crashing against the wall. Merlin didn't bother getting angry, and rose to his feet to clean it up as Arthur paced the living room, cursing and crying.
Arthur leaned against the window, arms crossed and gaze on nothing. He watched the early morning rain play on the glass, twisting and bending and chasing down the pane, and he felt nothing but a low burning pain. He watched as the early morning business man splashed through the puddles, and hear the driftings of phone calls fill his ears until the rain came back and pounded right before his face. It was odd, the glass like a forcefield, wind whipped water at him but it thwarted by the glass he stared through, smacking against it with a pang and slowly dripping down. He felt the cold ghosting from the outside, trying to claw inside of their home but blocked out by bricks and glass and wood.
"Eat." Merlin said softly behind him, holding out a plate of toast that Arthur rose an eyebrow to. "Gaius made it. "Arthur gave one nod, and something near a smile flitted over chapped lips. Merlin counted that as a victory, and moved to begin working on the case.
A week of silence only broken only by the shuffle of papers and the occasional curse word- and a mental breakdown for both parties- and Arthur and Merlin were no closer to uncovering a single thing about the killer. Both barely ate or slept or did anything but write and read and obsess over files, only two never getting looked at. Two brown folders no one mentioned, to victims no one dared bring up. Two clues that were practically ignored because neither of these men could distance themselves enough to accept it.
Gaius walks through the room once a day, leaving tea and biscuits, and leveling the best eyebrow raise he has at the two boys. Neither responds, and he hangs his head low, locking his hands and leaving again. Neither of the tenants notice the resigned sigh, nor do they notice the disapproving stares that Gwen and Lance give the single time they visit. When Gawain comes, Merlin's scribbling with such a desperation it's painful and Arthur is clicking through old stories on his laptop, back bent as he presses closer to the screen. The DI backs out slowly, and his met with Gaius who just stares sadly at the men.
"They've been like this almost two weeks." The old physician says as he pours a cuppa for Gawain. "They do nothing but work this case, it's going to destroy them."
"If I'd know this would happen I wouldn't-you have to believe me, i never wanted-"
"I know, Gawain, I know."
Lance and Gwen return, bringing cake and Morgana. Merlin looks up at Gwen and smiles, but then his face draws in confusion at the sight of the woman. Something cold in his stomach drops, the memories of betrayal and poison and magic all choking him as she smiles sweetly, with an edge of villainous. When Arthur turns around he nearly falls over on sight of the woman, and her smile turns into a predatory smirk as she stares at the flailing blonde.
"Little brother!" She coos softly, "It's been so long!"
"Morgana!" Arthur practically squeaks, but there is a fondness in both of their acts that makes Merlin want to wrap them in a hug. "Hi...What are you..I mean...This is my flatmate, Merlin!" Arthur points a finger at Merlin, and nearly does a full on cartwheel to get out of his chair.
"Is that what they call it these days?" Morgana chimed, sending a wink to Gwen, who returned a giggle as Lance followed Arthur into the kitchen. Merlin suspected Arthur's goal was to hide, and when he locked eyes with Morgana he knew she thought the same. He smiled at her, and she stepped forward, offering her hand. "I'm not as bad as he makes me seem."
"I'm sure," Merlin returned, ignoring the strange urge to bow and kiss her hand, instead just shaking it. "He does tend to exaggerate."
"Do not!" Arthur argued, peeking around the kitchen doorway to brandish a very tiny knife threateningly at Merlin. Merlin eyed the object before raising an eyebrow and Arthur groaned, ducking back into the kitchen.
"So, what brought this surprise visit on?" Merlin asked politely as he rearranged the living area, and tried to hide all murder related papers under one of the chairs. "Not that I don't appreciate beautiful people with cake." He laughed, and the two women joined in with giggles as they settled onto the couch.
"Gaius had us worried." Gwen explained, leaning forward. "Said you two were working yourselves to death." Merlin scrunched up his face at that, rolling his eyes. "So...you're fine?" Gwen did not sound or look convinced, and Merlin shifted from his position on the floor to rest his hands over hers and smile.
"We are fine, Guinever." He assured, squeezing her hands once and giving his best ridiculous grin. "We're just working, you caught us in the middle of a break."
"Wonderful!" Morgana clapped her hands, and somehow the spurred Arthur into action because a moment later he was carrying cake and tea out with Lance behind him, both showing very impressive balancing skills. Arthur set a piece of cake gently before his sister, who nodded her approval as he placed the tea beside it. Arthur set the the other plate and cup down in front of Merlin and ran back into the kitchen to grab his own.
After all the cake and tea was handed out, and Lance and Gwen stopped playing footsie under the table, the group found themselves in silence. Gwen told a few stories about her boss, Vivian, who was a total snob, and everyone laughed. Casual conversation went on idly for almost an hour before Morgana said that they better get going. Everyone said their polite goodbyes, and Gwen, Lance, and Merlin were down talking to Gaius when Morgana cornered her brother.
"I'm sorry." The true concern in her voice almost surprised Arthur, but he was still in shock from the tears surrounding green eyes. Before he could speak she was wrapping him in a hug, face buried in his shoulder and the tears she had probably suppressed ever since she found out burning on his shoulder. "Sh-she's gone...I can't believe...I didn't get to say g-goodbye." She rambled as he rocked her slowly, standing alone in the living room as a slow rain started playing a melody on the outside world.
"I know Morgana.." He whispered into her hair, taking in the familiar scent of lemon shampoo. "I..God, I know." And he did. He knew that at first she probably stood still in the living room, phone pressed to her ear, unable to think or breath as a voice repeated her name. He knew his stoic sister, with her pale skin a queen like walk, probably crumpled against a wall, ending the call without another word. Arthur could picture it, Morgana biting her lip, tears teasing at the corners of her eyes as she held the necklace looped around her neck, the one Mithian had given her the day she left to study social services at Uni. He could see her cheeks dark pink, smell the burning pot on the oven, hear the strangled breathing as she shook with tears she wouldn't share with this tortured world.
He knew Morgana, and he knew that's what happened when she found out.
"I barely saw her all year," Morgana whimpered, clutching his shirt. "A lunch here, dinner there but...but I just.." Morgana never let anyone see her sadness, except Arthur but he really didn't count. "I was to busy...And now? Now she's gone..Dammit! She was... I loved her like a sister, you know I did, Arthur. You did too, and I was to fucking busy and now she's dead!" This always came shortly after tears for Morgana, anger and self-deprecation. She pulled at her hair, but he kept his arms firmly around her until she settled against him to fall into renewed sobs.
"I had lunch with her a month ago, to tell her I got a flat with a freaky geek kid." Arthur whispered, smooth the back of Morgana hair as she took a deep breath. "A month, I texted and called but...A month, Morgana, and now...now I'll never get another phone call." His voice cracked, but Morgana was looking up at him and he knew it was now. Now, with his sister and one of his closest friends, that he had to say it. "I keep expecting a text at three A.M, ranting about a television show..Or-Or a phone call to rave about a book or a boy she met. I look, everyday, expecting to see three messages like I always had when I woke up. And they...They just aren't there. They're never there."
He was crying now, not as desperate or angry as Morgana, just sad and resigned. A slow acceptance and grief washing over him like it did every time he saw his phone. Like a breeze that ruffled his hair and turned his nose pink, it was soft and horrible. It scratched at his heart every day, slowly wasting him away as his phone stayed silent. Never did it play 'Hollaback Girl', Mithian had picked her own ringtone, she'd grinned when she pointed at the song, at the small hours of the morning. Never did he get shouted at over the latest episode of 'Hannibal', or 'Supernatural'. Some nights he even woke up, the fading images of a young girl spinning on her toes, white dress flowing out around her as she stuck her tongue out at him disappearing into the night as he stared at his phone, wishing it to ring.
Morgana nodded at him, brushing the tears from his face and pushing his hair from his face with light touches. There were moments, like this, where he felt like a little boy again. Waking up from nightmares about armies and battles and giant dragons burning a castle, and he'd pull his knees close and rock back and forth, trying to muffle the tears. Uther just glared when Arthur mentioned nightmares, told him to be more of a man, but Morgana would peek into his room. She stand in the doorway a moment, the glow framing her body like she were an angel. Then she tip toe to his bed and pull him into a suffocating hug, rocking with him until he the bloodied faces and crashing of swords were forgotten. Then, she would sing. Soft and perfect she would sing, any song she could think of. Some night it was lullabies, like 'London Bridge', but other's it was Queen songs or the latest pop hit that had played all day on the radio. Every night her voice would wrap around him like her arms, and he would fall asleep with his big sister telling him that she'd never let anyone hurt him.
"I-I have to go," Morgana whispered, and Arthur nodded, squeezing her once more before letting go of her entirely. The air felt cold on his chest where she'd stood, but she looked less tortured now, so he smiled. "Call me, eventually, and we can have dinner." She took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it, smiling gently at him. "Promise?"
"Promise." He returned the squeeze before she let go and left the room, looking perfectly composed and stately. Arthur leaned heavily against the wall, taking in a few deep breaths before he heard the tell tale steps of Merlin. They were fast, but every few there would be a stumble and a short curse, and then they'd pick up again until the gangly idiot was through the door. Merlin looked at him, the stupid smile fading so quickly it was frightening as he looked at Arthur.
"We'll...catch them." Merlin said, and Arthur felt the now-familiar sense of happiness he got whenever Merlin just understood, without words. He was horrible with emotional talks, he could convince an entire room of idiotic lawyers to try and take over Denmark if he wanted to, but anything involving feelings? Ah, he could make someone hate him in two sentences.
"Not if we keep standing here." Arthur smirked and Merlin rewarded him with a smile before they both went back to their jobs. Merlin wrote and wrote and worked out problems that Arthur was certain were in Latin. Arthur read and researched until he thought he could recite every well known legend and myth on the entire planet. It was familiar, in a depressing sort of way, and Arthur revelled in it. The silence and chalk dust that he'd warmed to in a frightening amount of time. Merlin had somehow become the most normal oddity in his life within the first week they became flatmates. Arthur enjoyed it, even more now, after losing something so much part of him.
Arthur stopped reading a moment, stopped just to watch Merlin. Watch the way the lines in his wrist jutted and disappeared with each line of chalk. He saw the tense line in Merlin's shoulder resolve itself as the problem fell into place in his hectic, brilliant mind. The way Merlin moved like a dancer from board to board, file to file, the most graceful thing Arthur had ever seen, and he'd seen Morgana. Merlin changed when he worked, like the noise in his head finally silenced and he could just move. Move like the wind, soft and perfect, never disturbing the area around him. When he worked his genius became blinding in every movement, the catlike waltz he did around stack of paper. How he jumped over the coffee table, and found the exact piece of paper he wanted without any effort. It was mesmerizing and gorgeous, this Merlin who was effortless and like magic. Blue eyes looking golden like a sunset, long pale fingers dancing over numbers and words like a pianist working Beethoven. Arthur's heart skipped a beat as Merlin's teeth drug over his perfect bottom lip, and he had to look away before getting caught staring at the other man's mouth.
The rest of the night went as it always did, Merlin working feverishly and Arthur researching with such a determination it could make an outsider feel ill. Both men stealing glances and trying to tell themselves the flutter in their chests was just nerves, or exhaustion. Easy silence filled to bursting with thoughts and wishes and grief over taking the flat. The words that were never spoken fell so thick in each atom of carbon dioxide and oxygen forced even Gaius out of the flat. No one called, and no one came for almost three days as the men barely spoke or ate, each only sleeping when they literally fell over.
From the outside it looked like desperation, obsession. To Gaius it was painful to witness, to Gwen it brought tears, and to Morgana it only brought a hollow gut. To Gwaine it was his fault, he kept saying he shouldn't have introduced them to a case, they were to young, to close; but he couldn't take them off, not now. Arthur had been transferred to the case, and Merlin was very officially known as a consultant. When Morgana had told Uther he'd said "Ah, shame...Nice girl." And turned back to his paperwork, and when his daughter explained Arthur's behavior he sneered. "He shouldn't react so fiercely, he's such a child." Morgana had left and never told her little brother, or spoken to her Father.
From the inside it was blissful hell. The words both of them started to say trapped by the look on the others face. Two files went untouched, unmentioned except to be included in the facts. Two files sat like a double elephant taking up the air space. Some days it rained, some it didn't but if you asked neither men could tell you what day it was thundering at what day it was bright and sunny. Inside their flat was silence only broken by "Hand me that paper" or "It's alright, it's okay, it wasn't real" when one or the other wakes up in sweats and tears, shaking and near screaming. Nightmares followed both of them, and after they woke up neither mentioned it other then the brief moments. The hug and desperate words, while the other panted and pulled their hair until reality came back to them. Then there was tea and work.
"Merlin," Arthur broke the delicate silence for the first time, and the flinch Merlin gave made it all the more painful. "We...can't keep doing this. "It was a whisper, the words no one said but everyone knew. The Voldemort of 513B.
"We have to." Merlin bit out, but his shoulders sagged like he'd already given up the argument.
"I don't mean give up," Arthur said, setting his lap top aside. "Never are we giving up. I will not-No, cannot give up. But this," He gestured to the flat, dark and empty, tea cups scattered and paper everywhere. "This can't keep happening. We have to...get out, talk to Gwaine and talk to people. Lance and Gwen are having some party tomorrow, we...should go." Merlin nodded slowly, and both men knew that it had to end. This was grieving, but you couldn't grieve forever.
"Yeah, alright." Merlin set down the chalk, and the shaking of his hands made Arthur want to punch a wall. "So now we..."
"Order some food and then," The next words had to be torn from him with a rusted dagger, "Sleep." It was like a curse word, worse then any you could say, to them. The two men who woke up in panicked tears, screaming and fires chasing them some night, others it was blood and empty, beautiful faces. Merlin's breath went in sharp, and his shoulders were as straight as an arrow. The tremor in his hands grew and chewed his lip until Arthur rushed over, putting both hands on the other mans shoulders.
"I..Arthur, I-" He broke off, burying his face in his hands.
"We can sleep...together-I mean like, on the floor or something, just tonight. Just...to make it easier." Arthur's face was so red it burned, but Merlin didn't turn to look.
"Really?"
"Yes idiot, now find the take out menu." Arthur ruffled Merlin's hair for good measure and began staking up the papers strewn over the floor and tables. "Tell Gaius we'd love some tea."
"He's not out housekeeper-"
"I know," Arthur smiled, pushing everything onto a desk that was amusingly bare in the corner. "But he makes damn good tea."
Merlin went down stairs laughing, a real and true laugh, and Arthur thought maybe together they could make life a bit less like torture; and catch the killer.
