AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Again, thanks so much for all of the reviews!
DISCLAIMER: I like to eat frozen peaches. While I watch movies and shows that I don't own.
Merlin grinned and glanced around at the Avengers. "I want an apology each from Barton and Stark, and I want public apologies from Rogers and Romanoff."
Tony frowned, folding his arms. "Why not Bruce, Vision, Wanda or Sam?"
"Dr. Banner never visited my home, Miss Maximoff never harmed me, and neither did Vision or Mr. Wilson."
Bruce smirked as Tony scoffed. "I vote that Tony goes first. And he has to speak a minimum of at least one hundred words. And it has to be sincere. All in favor raise your right hand. If Tony doesn't do it, he has to eat nothing but spinach, soy smoothies and non-chewable vitamins for the next month."
Hands went up all around.
Tony glanced down, horrified, at the package of Goldfish in his lap, and the bottle of Sparkling Cider next to his feet. (Sparkling Cider wasn't alcohol, but Pepper had made him a bet that he couldn't go without any alcoholic beverages for a week. Sparkling Cider was his way of consoling himself.)
Tony knew himself well enough that he would die if all he had to eat for a month was spinach. Tony enjoyed his junk food too much.
So he decided to swallow his pride, big-time, and apologize.
Tony carefully set his Goldfish on the table next to him. He took a breath and stood. Tony noticed Sam was directing the camera on his phone toward Tony, smirking. Tony gritted his teeth. He'd get Chicken-Man for that later.
Tony turned to Merlin, looking like he'd spent the last twenty minutes sucking on a lemon. "I am very sorry for barging into your house like I owned the place, and I am very sorry for insulting your books and breaking your table. I am very sorry that I chased you with the intent to capture. I am very sorry that I almost blew you up. And I am very sorry that I locked you in a metal cube with nothing to do for two days."
"Thirty more words, Boss," FRIDAY's voice said, sounding amused.
"I know, FRIDAY, just shut up, all right?" Tony shifted his feet. "I am sorry that I don't believe you. I am sorry that I laughed at you. I am sorry that I do not like you right now. Maybe we can work it out later."
Tony sat down without another word, glaring icy daggers at Sam, who was struggling to hold in his chuckles.
Sam lowered his phone. "He even went over his limit!" Sam crowed delightedly. Sam smiled at Merlin. "He must like you." Sam looked at his phone and laughed. "I'm going to watch this video every time that I need to cheer myself up."
"I hate you," Tony growled, jabbing a finger at Sam, then Steve, then Merlin. "You for how annoying you are." Tony pointed at Sam. "You for your goody-two-shoes-ness." He pointed at Steve. "And you because you just bug me." Tony finally pointed to Merlin, who smiled broadly.
"I enjoy your company too, Stark," Merlin chuckled.
The apologies from Clint, Steve and Natasha were much less entertaining, and much more to the point. Merlin's smile faded after they finished. He knew what he needed to ask for. He really, really, didn't like it, but it had to be done.
Bruce picked up on the change of mood. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Are your injuries doing all right?"
Merlin shook his head. "I'm fine. I just… need to ask for a favor."
"Aww, great!" Tony grumbled, still pouting. "Now he wants a favor." (Tony wasn't really mad at Merlin, just annoyed and embarrassed that he'd had to apologize like he had. He much would've rather done it in a less public way.)
Merlin shifted in his seat. His ribs were still stiff and his shoulder stung dully if he moved it the wrong way. "It isn't so much a favor, actually," he mumbled. "More like… a self-inflicted punishment for the good of all humanity."
Clint handed Merlin the black velvet pouch. It had taken him and Nat nearly an hour to find it, stashed in Merlin's hidden vault in his Britain home. Natasha and Clint had volunteered to retrieve it. (Clint had actually been volun-told by Natasha, but that wasn't the point.)
It was nearing 11 PM on the third day of Merlin's stay with the Avengers. They had taken him to a lushly furnished guest room, complete with a walk-in closet, a huge bathroom and a fully-stocked kitchenette. Merlin had showered and changed, then found a snack. He had taken a nap and been woken by FRIDAY informing him that Clint and Natasha had returned.
Merlin wished that there was another way, but he couldn't think of one, other than meditating for hours while he searched the globe with his magic. This way was much quicker.
Merlin picked at the strings on the pouch. He and the Avengers were gathered in the Avengers Lounge once again. Steve glanced doubtfully at the pouch. "You said that that crystal in there is from a magic cave, and it will show you visions?"
Merlin nodded tightly, trying to hide his nervousness. He suspected that only Steve, Natasha and Clint could see through his casual façade. "Yes. I should be able to see whatever keeps making me feel like I want to puke up dirty oil."
Wanda shuddered. She had never experienced what Merlin was describing, but her magic did sometimes make her sensitive to pollution and things like that. She imagined the feelings would be similar.
Merlin steeled his nerves, and slid the pouch open. He hesitated for half a second before slipping the fist-sized crystal out of the pouch and into his palm. The crystal was cold against his fingers. The surface was blank for the moment. Merlin took one last breath and let his magic touch the pulsing, tingling magic emanating from the stone.
The crystal's magic was strange and unnerving. It sent shivers down Merlin's spine. He felt like someone had injected him with ice water.
Merlin stared into the smoky depths of his seeing crystal. At first he only saw glowing darkness. Then images began to form out of the depths of the black light.
Merlin saw a lake glowing with multicolored fire. He saw the Avengers fighting an unseen enemy. He saw flashes of army camo and the beams of flashlights. He saw flashes of color. He saw eyes, blue and green and brown, some filled with fear, others with anger.
Merlin's breathing quickened. His hands shook. The crystal seemed to be leeching to the warmth from his fingers.
Then he started to hear things, which had never happened before. He heard wind rushing and he heard the sharp pop of gunfire. He heard the whine of strained engines. He heard the crunch of gravel. He heard explosions. And worst of all, he heard screaming. The screams of crowds. And the screams of individuals.
The screams of ghosts.
The colors of the vision brightened, becoming more real. Sounds became louder, leaving his ears ringing. The world flashed white for a split second. Then Merlin's world disappeared, replaced by…
…a room, dark, except for a single flickering candle. The wind was blowing outside. Merlin could hear it. He could feel its chill. Dirt crunched under his bare feet, prickling his soles. Merlin could see no one.
A voice spoke out of the darkness, dripping with fake sweetness. The sweetness did nothing to hide the venom oozing from the words. "I brought you back, and with your assistance, we managed to bring her back as well. But now the way is blocked by some form of magic, very powerful. I can do nothing more." The voice had a cold accent. It sent chills down Merlin's spine. The voice resounded strangely in Merlin's ears, making it impossible to tell if a man or a woman was speaking.
"Surely you can try harder." This voice was tinged with annoyance… and despair.
The first voice responded. "No, I'm afraid that I cannot. You will simply have to wait."
A third voice joined the conversation. This voice sounded aggravated. "End your incessant bickering. We have no chance of succeeding if we are fighting each other."
A figure moved into Merlin's frame of vision. Merlin tried to move, but he found that his body was frozen. The figure didn't seem to notice Merlin.
Merlin tried to see who the figure was, but the face, the whole body, in fact, was shrouded in a dark, blurry mist. Merlin could only see that the figure was tall. The figure spoke. It was the first voice. Now it seemed contrite.
"I apologize, my dear," the voice said. "Please forgive me."
A second indistinguishable figure moved into the light, this one slightly shorter than the other. "I accept your apology," the second voice said. "Now, we need to discuss our plan of action."
The voice said something else, but a pounding ringing in Merlin's ears blocked out the word. Blackness threatened to overtake his vision. Merlin fought against the comforting pull of the empty blackness. He needed to see more!
Merlin pushed the blackness away. His senses cleared.
"—these Avengers you speak of." It was the third voice again. "We need to find a way to strip him of his most valuable tool. Without it, he is useless."
The second voice spoke. "I tire of waiting."
The first voice spoke again. "Yet wait you must. We have not had time to prepare our plan fully yet. Another month, perhaps two. Do not forget that you are not the only one with a vendetta. Patience is our ally in this game."
The darkness clouding Merlin's vision was growing with each beat of his heart. Merlin could hear it pounding in his ears. He could taste the oily blackness on his tongue. Nothing had ever tasted so disgusting. Merlin could feel the pure, utter hatred radiating from the trio. He could smell it in the air.
Merlin tried to swallow to clear his throat. He tried to blink to clear his eyes. He tried to breathe to clear his head. Nothing worked. Merlin's throat closed, suffocating him, denying him life-giving air.
It was as if the unadulterated loathing was poisoning him.
Merlin tried to see just a bit more, hear just the next sentence, stay just a minute more. But he could do nothing. Merlin's lungs burned.
He was frozen in place, and he was dying.
His heartbeats slowed. Darkness extinguished his vision. He breathed out.
And then he was gone.