My room is so quiet and empty it hurts.
Nina LaCour
January 13, 2010
Arthur is 24
Arthur wonders when he became lost. He thinks. Six days. He stopped feeling six days ago.
He takes a day off from university, the first in years, knowing that he will not be able to concentrate on the lecture or the studying he will have to do in the library afterwards. He's actually doing his lecturer a favour. They will both save their time and energy if he doesn't turn up.
Arthur hasn't missed a day of university since Merlin left him at 19.
January 14, 2010
Arthur is 24
He takes another day off.
His tutor is going to be worried and concerned and maybe a little bit mad, but he doesn't care. He knows the grief he's feeling is irrational. He knows that Merlin will return. He has to. He always does. He always comes home to Arthur.
January 15, 2010
Arthur is 24
Arthur avoids university, again. He ignores everybody's calls and emails except Leon's because Leon is dependable. He doesn't talk too much and he never disappears.
Leon asks no questions and lets Arthur act as if he has no care in the world when he talks at great length about football after they meet in the local pub.
Leon asks no questions when they arrive in the middle of Soho and get absolutely hammered and end up sleeping for a while on the Embankment, although how they ended up there from Soho they'll never remember.
They're still drunk and laughing and throwing up like teenagers in the street when they pay a cab driver an obscene amount of money to take them to Leon's apartment in Kensington.
Arthur passes out in the bathroom. As Leon leans against the door to stop himself from doing the same, he watches his friend snore and wonders why he doesn't want to go home.
January 16, 2010
Arthur is 24, Merlin is 24
Arthur sleeps through most of the day sprawled out on Leon's bathroom floor. He wakes, showers, and makes the two of them a heavy English fry-up as some sort of greasy apology before he dresses into borrowed clothes and leaves. Leon remembered with sudden alarm that he has a Really Hot Date later tonight and he'd told Arthur in no uncertain terms that he had to get the hell out of his place before she arrived.
Arthur doesn't protest, because Leon is his best mate and Arthur definitely owes him one.
He's hungover, unshaven, and unstable on his feet as he travels to Merlin's flat in Battersea. He plans to smother himself in Merlin's shirts and maybe drink some more and perhaps fall into an alcoholic stupor. Maybe he'll cook another fry-up and eat half his body weight in Merlin's not-so-secret stash of chocolate. Maybe he'll sob a little. Maybe he'll break something, something valuable, something Merlin can never replace, something that's valuable to him, because Merlin is valuable to Arthur and Arthur can't replace him and it hurts.
Even though it's late afternoon, winter is still in full swing and it's nearly dark when he put his key into the door. He tries to push his way in, because the door's a little stiff, but then he realises all of the chains on the other side are bolted.
"Alright, alright!" Merlin calls, his voice thick from sleep and angry when Arthur begins throwing himself against the door in annoyance. "Hang on!"
The chains are undone and the door swings open and Merlin's face softens immediately as he stares at Arthur across the threshold.
He's a little older.
It doesn't matter. "You better tell me where the bloody hell you're hiding," Arthur demands as he jabs a finger into Merlin's chest. Arthur hopes it hurts, but if it does Merlin does not let on.
"Jesus, Arthur, you look horrendous. Get in."
"The hell with how bad I look!" He's angry now, angry after so long of hurting, of worrying, of wanting Merlin.
"Arthur, seriously. Come in. Now."
This Merlin is in the same tracksuit bottoms he was on their first morning together and, unsurprisingly, he's shirtless. His raven hair is sticking up in all different directions on one side, while the other is flat from where he's been sleeping. He's unshaven, tired, and he doesn't look very well.
Arthur storms into the flat and tries not to feel bad. "How old are you?"
"I'm 24," Merlin replies as he closes the door.
"Where are you coming from?"
"Lance and Gwen's wedding," he says, smiling when Arthur looks stunned. He turns to bolt the door again. "But that was hours ago."
"Why are you telling me?"
Merlin frowns. "Er—you asked me."
"No, I mean, you don't usually tell me things like that, about the future."
Merlin shrugs. He's still leaning against the closed door. "You're not a kid anymore. Besides, Future Arthur already knew I would make a disappearing act before it happened, so I'm assuming that this is me warning you, so you can warn me later."
It takes Arthur a second to catch up. "Right."
"Yeah."
Arthur follows Merlin into the bedroom, who collapses weakly under the duvet and exhales tiredly.
"You wanna tell me why you were trying to break in?" Merlin asks after a while of letting Arthur stare down at him with burning eyes.
"I have a key."
"And yet you still try to dislocate your shoulder trying to get in."
Arthur sits on the edge of the bed, picking at the fraying sleeve of Leon's jumper. His shoulder does hurt a little. "Why was the door bolted?"
Merlin's head pokes out from the top of the bed cover and he regards Arthur closely for a moment, as if Arthur is missing something important. "I try to avoid myself as much as possible."
"Is that why I hardly see more than one of you?" Arthur remembers asking this question as a child; he'd never gotten the answer he wanted.
"Probably. I can't stand myself." His eyes crinkle slightly; he's smiling weakly under the duvet. "Why were you trying to break in?" he asks again.
"You really don't know?"
"You didn't tell me that a younger you would turn up while I was busy being absent from our best friends' wedding," he explains, his voice muffled. He's curled into himself again.
"You've been gone for days."
"I do that sometimes, you know," Merlin deadpans cleverly.
"Not for me. Not yet."
Merlin pulls himself up a little. "I didn't check. What's the date? How old are you?"
"It's January 16. 2010."
"24," Merlin answers after thinking fast. He sounds a little wistful and his breath comes out in a sort of whoosh. "You're 24, too. We've just met."
"You've just met me, you mean."
"Yeah, whatever. The days all roll into one sooner or later."
Arthur pulls off Leon's borrowed sweatshirt and kicks off his shoes and crawls into the bed. Merlin pulls him in, his arm curling around Arthur's waist as Arthur brings up the duvet to his chin.
"It's the longest I've been gone, hasn't it?" Merlin asks quietly into his ear.
"Nine days."
Merlin's arm tightens on Arthur to keep him close to his chest. "I'm sorry. You should give him a lot of shit when he comes home. He probably deserves it."
"Is this reverse psychology?" Arthur asks, staring at the wall.
Merlin laughs. "No."
"So I will give you hell?"
"We'll see."
"Good, because that was what I was looking forward to the most," Arthur says, sincere, although now he is with Merlin, he's not sure. He rolls over. "When will you come back, Em?"
Merlin closes his eyes. He looks pained. "As far as I can remember, I'll be in bed when you wake up tomorrow."
Arthur relaxes, shaking in recovery as if he's been holding his breath. Merlin hasn't been away longer than two days since Arthur found him again. "Thank God. I'll hold you to that."
"Arthur," Merlin mumbles as Arthur suggestively slips his leg under his own, "as much as I'd like to be all over a 24-year-old you right now, I've got a terrible headache and I need to sleep so I can do that to you when I go home."
"I'm looking forward to it. When are you coming from? What date?"
"Uh. May 24 in 2013."
"Oh, God. I'm – what? 27?"
Merlin laughs. "It suits you. You've got nothing to worry about. Hardly changed, apart from that beer belly."
Arthur scoffs after a brief moment of panic and nudges Merlin. Nearly, he thinks as Merlin closes his eyes. Arthur watches as Merlin falls into his needed slumber. He's as fascinated as he was the first time, even if his own head hurts from his raging hangover and he's still a little angry. "Love you."
"Mmm. I love you, too." Merlin hums happily. He burrows into Arthur, gets comfortable and holds tight. Arthur wants to ask what's happening in his future to make Merlin look so sick, but Merlin says, "Now shut the hell up," and Arthur decides he doesn't want to know.