I'm breaking in my new keyboard for my laptop. I think it works great!
Anyway, thanks a bunch for the reviews, alerts, and favorites last chapter. You guys are incredible.
I know this is a little later than you guys/gals have come to expect, and I apologize for that, but it's been ungodly hot here and I just haven't wanted to write.
So, thanks for reading, leave me a comment if you can, and I still don't own 'em.
See ya!
Arthur had a plan. He had spent the entire weekend coming up with it, perfecting it. Every detail had to go off without a hitch because he couldn't bear to make things worse. Not when it came to Merlin. Truth was Arthur needed Merlin back. He physically ached when he thought about the prospect of never seeing the younger man's goofy smile, never hearing his voice, never seeing him, feeling his touch, or kissing him again. He needed Merlin more than he needed anyone else in his life.
So, Monday morning he rode the lift down to the basement. He had taken the day off Friday, ignored all his calls all weekend, and was almost certain Uther wished to speak with him, but his father could wait. Unless someone was bleeding to death, Merlin was more important now.
The doors opened and Arthur stepped off, keeping an eye out for Merlin's friends. He recalled the row between him and Gwaine Thursday night, and figured it was best to avoid the Irishman. The last thing he needed was to get into a fist fight.
He managed to avoid running into anyone in the hallway and found Merlin standing by his locker. With a deep breath, Arthur started forward, intending to call the younger man's name, but froze when he realized it wasn't actually Merlin.
"Who are you?" Arthur asked sounding a bit ruder than expected.
"George, sir," the man responded in a stiff voice, either not hearing or opting to ignore Arthur's tone. From behind he could be Merlin's twin, but Arthur could tell this man was not Merlin. He wasn't even in the same league as Merlin. "How may I help you?"
"Have you seen Merlin?"
"Mr. Emrys resigned Friday, sir," George replied softly, shuffling the stack of mail in his hands. "I am a temp."
"H-he quit?" Arthur felt as if somebody kicked him in the stomach; all his breath leaving his lungs in one fell swoop. Merlin had resigned just so he didn't have to see Arthur. Trying to ignore the sudden pain in his chest, his vision blurring, Arthur managed to gasp out a 'thank you' before turning and stumbling out of the room and straight into Gwaine.
"He's not here," Gwaine stated slowly, sneering. The blond chose not to respond. Instead he tried to walk around the Irishman, but Gwaine moved with him, blocking his path. "What? Are you too good to talk to me? Princess, that really hurts my feelings."
"Please move," Arthur said softly, swiping at his downcast eyes. All he wanted to do was go back to his office and work until he could pretend this day hadn't happened. He didn't want to deal with Gwaine, not after their horrid last meeting, and especially not when he was already feeling awful.
"I promised Merlin I wouldn't touch you," Gwaine continued, ignoring Arthur's request. "He's nice like that, you see, but I don't see Merlin around. Do you? And what Merlin doesn't know won't hurt him."
"I don't want to fight," Arthur muttered trying to move around the older man again, but Gwaine blocked his path a second time.
"Who said anything about fighting? I'm just going to rip your head off." The punch came quick, Arthur barely having enough time to duck out of its way, five years of fencing paying off. He tripped over his feet, landing heavily on the floor, rolling out-of-the-way of Gwaine's leather boot. Arthur bound to his feet, attempting to duck another punch, but Gwaine's knuckles grazed his cheek, sending him reeling.
"I can have you sacked for this," Arthur snapped wiping blood off his cheek.
"Do you think I give a fuck about this job?" Gwaine shouted trying to hit Arthur again. The blond jumped back a step, feeling the fist breeze past his face. "I only took this job because of Merlin!" Gwaine took another swing, missing Arthur again, but just barely. "And now, because of you, he's gone."
"You think I don't know that?" Arthur snarled pushing Gwaine's chest, sending the older man back a step. "You think I'm not beating myself up for my mistake?" He pushed Gwaine a second time, a bit harder, sending the brunette to the floor. "It hurts, Gwaine! Physically makes me sick that I hurt him like I did, and the worst part is I can't even apologize because he won't answer my calls! And the one time, the one time I thought I could get him alone, explain, I find him gone!
"You know," Arthur continued, his voice softer, "you once told me to fight for Merlin. You said he was worth fighting for, and I agree he is worth it." He sighed, sniffing once, and offered the brunette a hand. "I just want him back."
Gwaine was quiet for a moment, staring at the offered hand, but finally he sighed and took it. As Arthur hauled him to his feet, the brunette asked, "Is it true what you told him? At Gwen's place? About you not giving up on you two; about how you love him?"
"I meant every word," Arthur confirmed with a nod. "He's the best thing that's ever happened to me." It was almost the exact words Gwaine had used at the pub, two months ago, and Arthur could see the understanding in Gwaine's eyes. "And I may not deserve Merlin, he may not even want me back, but it doesn't hurt to try. I have to try, Gwaine."
"It pains me to admit this, Princess, but I believe you," Gwaine said after a long pause. "The only problem is I haven't seen Merlin since Friday morning. He's not answering anyone's calls, and even Gaius hasn't seen him. It's like he just disappeared."
"What about Guinevere? Lance? Anyone?" Arthur tried to wrack his brain, think of anyone else who may know where Merlin might be, and that's when it hit him. He snapped his fingers and said, "I know where he is."
"Where?" Gwaine asked curiously, and Arthur merely gave the brunette a grim smile before heading towards the lift. He heard Gwaine grumble something, but quickly chase after him.
Merlin
"Are you okay sweetheart?" Hunith asked watching as he son lay on her settee, watching mid-afternoon telly. She had already asked several times over the past few days, and Merlin was beyond frustrated with the question. He understood his mother was just worried about him, but he didn't want her to hover anymore.
"I'm fine mother," Merlin responded softly, dully, eyes half closed, trying very hard to keep from feeling anything. The more he felt, the worse it hurt, and he was already tired of shredding tears for Arthur Pendragon.
"Do you want something to eat?"
"No."
"Honey, you've hardly eaten in three days," Hunith stated softly, sitting down next to her son, running a hand through his hair. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"
No."
"Have you talked to Arthur?"
Merlin merely grunted, squeezing his eyes shut, forcing the tears away. When was his mother going to get the hint? He didn't want to talk about it. Not now, possibly not ever.
"I'm sure if you just…" Merlin suddenly sat up, cutting his mother off, and got to his feet. He staggered for a moment, no doubt getting up too fast, perhaps from lack of food too, and headed towards the door. He shoved his feet into his sneakers, grabbed his jacket, and headed out, slamming the door behind him, ignoring his mother's attempt to call him back.
He walked for a while, hands buried in his pockets, shoulders hunched to stave off the cold. He eventually found himself at an old play park, taking a seat on an old, rickety bench. He leaned forward, eyes settling on the ground, and began trying not to think, but it was futile.
He still couldn't believe Arthur lied to him. Their relationship had been based on a stupid, childish bet, and it made Merlin wonder if the blond meant anything he said. Was he actually in love with Merlin or was it all because he wanted to win? Had he been manipulating Merlin this entire time? What other secrets was Arthur hiding? How can Merlin begin to trust him again?
The young man burrowed deeper into his jacket, trying and failing to stave off the freshly building tears. In frustration, he swiped at his eyes, sniffing. Maybe all of this was his fault. Maybe he did something in the past, something that cursed him with one bad partner after another. Perhaps the universe was still punishing him for Edwin. He sniffed again, shaking his head, trying to clear that thought. Edwin wasn't his fault. He didn't know how much of a world-class areshole he was; it's not like he introduced himself as controlling and possessive.
Though, sometimes Merlin could still hear Edwin's parting words to him. "You'll always be mine, Merlin." Even after six years, those words still sent chills down his spine. Staving off a shiver, Merlin bounded to his feet, intending to go home, but froze when he spotted the man in question standing across the park.
Merlin almost ran away, pride be damned, but he froze when he spotted the little girl sliding down the slide, straight into Edwin's arms. She giggled as he swung her around, telling him to do it again. He complied just as another man approached them, a smile on his pale face. The two men embraced and proceeded to take their daughter back towards their car.
A part of Merlin was happy for Edwin, he seemed to have finally grown up and gotten his life together. The other part was pissed off. Why does Edwin get to have a perfect life while Merlin was drowning in sorrow and betrayal? He didn't want to sound like a child, but it wasn't fair. Why did Edwin deserve happiness? Where was Merlin's happiness? The idea of becoming a dodgy old cat man was becoming better and better every single day.
Merlin
"Can I ask you something?" Arthur glanced over at Gwaine, watching as the brunette lit a cigarette. As he took a puff, he nodded, gesturing for the blond to go ahead. "Why don't you want anyone to know you have money?"
Gwaine was quiet for a long moment, flicking some ash out his cracked window, but finally, after another long drag, he said, "I don't have money."
"Bullshit, I've seen your wardrobe. That jacket is Armani, those boots are Gucci, and I thought I spotted a Dolce and Gabbana belt the other day. I know how much those brands cost."
"And that's what having a well off sister gets you," Gwaine grumbled blowing a mouthful of smoke at the ceiling. "My half-sister inherited a lot of money when her father died. She likes to blow it on stuff that doesn't need to be bought, and I've learned a long time ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth."
Gwaine threw his cigarette out the window before continuing, "My dad left me and my mam nothing, see. He had money, a shit ton of money, but he left it to his mistress and her stepchildren when he died. My mother managed to find herself another well off man, but he hated me and I knew I wasn't seeing a bleeding cent from him. In fact, the only time he spent money on me was when he shipped me off to boarding school when I was twelve.
"But Clarissa he loved, doted on even, and she got half of his estate when he died. My mother, naturally, got the other half. And Clarissa likes to show off just how much money she has; it's her way of gloating to me. Some I sell to a pawn shop, others, like this jacket, my boots, and that belt, I keep."
"But that doesn't explain your address," Arthur protested lamely, his eyes locked on the windshield. He had thought growing up around Uther had been bad.
"Me mam's place," Gwaine replied, clearly embarrassed, resting his head against the window. "Merlin leaving me was the smartest thing he could have ever done," the brunette added, sorrow in his voice, and the car lapsed into a long silence.
