Welcome to the next chapter of TFR!

I shall apologize for the wait and give you the new chapter as an "I'm sorry I let you all down with my once-a-week updating schedule."

CAPTAIN OZONE again is my lovely beta.

In this chapter, Colin is Merlin. Richard is Gaius. Santiago is Lancelot. Eoin is Gwaine. Eddie (because I already have a Tom in this story and Edward is Tom Hopper's middle name) is Percival. Rupert is Leon. Bradley is Arthur. Sarah is Catrina. Tony is Uther. Rick is Tristan (Tristan, Arthur's uncle).

Remember to check my website whenthestormisthrough which is my TUMBLR url. I post chapter updates and some excerpts as well as all things Merlin on there.

Enjoy the chapter, and please review. I like to hear what you thought of the chapter, what you didn't like, any questions or concerns, your favorite parts, and any suggestions/comments about my writing in general.

Onto the chapter,

Erin

After TFR, I have 3 story ideas that I will possibly write next. You guys can vote on whichever one you would like to see. Check on my profile and vote on the poll.

For now, you can check out an 8K AU Merlin oneshot I wrote called Alright, Fine, and Other Words of Wellness. I am currently writing its sequel Good, Better, and Other Words of Condition.

Chapter Twelve

"It happens in a blink,
It happens in a flash,
It happened in the time
It took to look back."

-"Blink" by Revive

It had been a fairly typical morning until Sarah's call came in.

For the first time in a long while, the sun graced the morning, dancing above the horizon. Colors of gold, orange, and pink stemmed from said star, blinding the citizens with its glare. The light shined through the transparent glass of the windows in Uther's hotel room, filling the space with a rainbow of morning brightness, he awoke at early hour when it was just breaking dawn.

The lawyer had started preparing himself for the day ahead, gathering the necessary supplies and breakfast before joining Gaius to begin their search for Hunith. Uther had pulled out a comfortable suit and dressed quickly, adjusting the collar of his trench coat because, even as spring approached, the cold temperatures of the winter season still lingered. As he grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door, the shrill sound of his cell phone rang out into the empty room.

With a practiced movement, he dug into his pocket and withdrew his phone. "Hello?" he said without even glancing at the caller ID. "Tony James, speaking."

"Tony," a hoarse voice answered, its tone wavering as if the caller was attempting to hold back a rolling tide of emotion. "Tony… It's Sarah - Sarah Parker. I'm calling because… Uhm… There's been an accident… Colin—He's… Uhm… He's…"

Uther's breath caught in his throat. "Sarah, what happened? Is everything alright?"

There were tears in her voice. "Tony, it's Tom. He got them. Oh god…"

"Calm down. Sarah—Sarah." Uther tried numerous times to console the social worker, but his only answer was her continuous sobs on the other end. "Where—Where are you?"

"T-The hospital off of 44th," she answered.

Uther heard muffled noises from the other side as he exited his hotel room as swiftly as possible, hailing a taxi when he reaching the street curb. "Sarah—Sarah, tell me what happened." Uther kept up the constant mantra as the woman attempted to elucidate the current predicament over the phone; however, she was unable to provide the lawyer with a coherent explanation. "I'm getting into a taxi right now. I'll be there in fifteen minutes…"

"Oh, o-okay," Sarah responded, sniffling.

"Will you be alright?" Uther added as an afterthought. "Is someone there with you?"

"R-Richard's h-here too," she said. "H-he brought C-Colin and L-Laura in." Uther was amazed that she had managed to form a lucid reply considering the hitches in her breath. It was clear she was going to lose it again.

"I'll be there soon. Just calm down," Uther stressed. "Drink some water or something-anything to take your mind off of whatever happened."

Sarah agreed to his terms and hung up before Uther could administer another word. With a sigh, the lawyer shoved his phone into his coat pocket, leaning back in the seat and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger – any means to channel his frustration. He didn't understand how things could have fallen apart so quickly when they had been making enormous progress. All they had to do was find that boy's mother and have her sign over her parental rights—then Colin would have been free for adoption.

Uther clenched one hand into a fist and banged it against the window of the taxi. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath when a sharp pain erupted in the limb, throbbing in time with his racing heart. He knew needed to express his irritation with the situation at hand, but, as a grown adult, he knew that punching windows wasn't exactly the ideal way to do so.

Part of Uther desperately wished that he didn't have to deal with this case, but he knew he had to see it through until the end. If he could, Uther would have given up on this case long ago; he didn't deal with adoption cases but rather homicides and the occasional drug heist. He wasn't fit for family court, but Gaius was his friend; he owed the older man after everything he had done back in Camelot.

More importantly, however, he owed his son.

Even if Gaius was his friend, Uther might have backed down from it eventually, but he pushed himself because he would have shamed himself if he dropped it. However, Uther didn't give up on Colin's case because of his own pride—no—he kept it because he owed it to Arthur.

Ever since he had admitted to regaining his memories, Arthur had distanced himself from his father. Even though Uther himself had given his son and daughter the space necessary to deal with the onslaught of returning memories and past faults, when he tried to contact Arthur shortly after returning to New York City, the nineteen-year-old had turned him away. Uther knew that the teenager needed time to digest everything, but he honestly hadn't thought it would take almost three months for everything to be sorted out.

He wanted a chance to repair the shambles their father-son relationship had become.

Sure, most of it was his own fault by forcing his own dreams and expectations on Arthur, but his son had acted on his own accord and refused to go along with their plan, moving to the city after one semester at law school. It disappointed Uther that Arthur threw away his promising future for a career he still wasn't certain about. In the conversation that followed the realization that both had their memories, Arthur had admitted that he wasn't sure about the course he was currently traveling. Whether or not he would end up pursuing a career as a writer, Arthur had no idea, but he had made it clear that he would pave his own path—Uther's expectations be damned.

That was the last time he had spoken to his son.

He knew that Arthur had always been an independent child, especially apparent in the last few months. Dropping out of Harvard and moving to New York had placed a strain on their relationship, but Uther was taking the necessary measures to repair it—if only Arthur would contribute to the reconstruction. Uther knew he wasn't the greatest of fathers, but he was trying so very hard to make up for everything.

In their past lives and in this life, which was why he couldn't give up this case.

I am going to find the rest of my friends, Arthur had told him. Uther knew he meant his knights—from commoners to nobility—as well as his manservant. Even when he was King, it was obvious to Uther that his son cared about his servant. The scrawny young boy who had saved Arthur's life had managed to weasel his way into his heart. There was no denying that Arthur found a friend in Merlin, and Uther wasn't going to take that away from him in this life.

Uther had found Merlin in Colin, and he was determined to help Gaius adopt the boy so that Arthur would finally be able to meet his friend without any danger. He would have told his son of whom he had found, but he feared of how Arthur would react. Merlin didn't remember anything—Gaius could vouch for him.

He was doing this for Arthur, and in the end, that made it all worth it.

Santiago had never been particularly patient.

It was an obstacle everyone faced every once and while, and he wasn't afraid to admit that he suffered from it on a daily basis—ever since he rescued Colin that bitter December night. He constantly found himself worrying over the younger boy's well-being, wondering where he was in the city and how he was doing in life. However, he refused to let his impatience become his downfall. Before he regained his memories, Lancelot had been known to be as reckless as they came, but after he found and lost his old friend, he turned over a new page. He knew he needed to be patient and pray that fate would rectify the situation since he was unable to do anything. Colin's foster father had warned Lancelot that if he interfered with Colin's home-life, he would involve the police.

Lancelot took that as a hidden meaning that things would become worse for Colin.

So, against his better judgment, Lancelot kept his distance from his old friend, hoping that it would somehow help the young warlock in the grand scheme of things. However, here he was three months later-Colin's blood staining his skin-and the ex-knight couldn't help but wonder if there could have been another way.

It had been one hour since they transferred Colin to Skylark Memorial.

One hour.

Lancelot continued to pace the entire length of the waiting room as the clock ticked on—back and forth, back and forth. His brown eyes constantly flickered towards the doors that led to the patient's rooms. Every now and then, a doctor would enter through those doors and deliver news to awaiting family, and each time, Lancelot would direct his attention to him or her only to find out that there was no news about his friend. Time continued, and he was left with as much as he started with.

Rupert had always been a responsible individual.

Since he was young enough to understand orders, there had always been a distinct part of him that was engrained to obey certain commands that he believed to be right and just. When faced with confrontation, he chose the most reasonable and logical path and followed it through until the very end—even if it had dire consequences. Rupert had always been the dependable person with a rational mind, so when he moved in with Eddie and met Eoin and Santiago, it was no wonder he became the level-headed guide of the group.

However, it was only an hour and a half that became his downfall since it was enough time for Rupert to arrive at his apartment and abruptly backtrack when he noticed the flashing light on the answering machine he and Eddie shared.

"Rupert, hey, it's me." The twenty-four-year-old raised his head in confusion as he recognized his roommate's voice. "Listen, something happened last night… Anyway, I'm at Skylark Memorial right now with Eoin and Santiago. We're fine; don't worry. But… I think it'd be best if you came down here as soon as you get this message… Just, hurry… Alright, bye."

Rupert wasted no time in bolting out the door, hailing a cab, and arrived at the hospital in record time. When he managed to contact Eddie with the news of his appearance, his roommate had met him in the entrance before taking him to the elevator, up a few floors, and into the waiting room. Eddie quickly joined Eoin and Santiago in the chairs lining the far wall of the waiting room, gesturing for Rupert to follow him. Rupert was so intent on discovering just what had occurred that would force three of the strongest people he knew into such a panicked state that he didn't notice the older man rushing down the corridor until it was too late.

The stranger clipped Rupert, sending him crashing into a wall, and before the younger man even had time to react, the older man flung an apology over his shoulder and continued down his original path. Rupert shook his head and seated himself beside Eddie and Eoin, but he let his pale, gray eyes flicker towards the mysterious man who had barreled into him. The man claimed a free seat across from Rupert and his friends, beside an older woman whose eyes were red from the tears that still dripped down her face—slow like candle wax. The man leaned close and whispered a few hushed words; the woman drew in a stuttering breath and closed her eyes, swallowing thickly and breathing a few words back. The man reached out a hand and ran it down the side of her face, caressing her cheek gently; the woman let a few more tears fall.

Rupert had to look away; the moment was too intimate for a bystander's eyes.

Instead, he turned his attention to his friends, who had zeroed in on the stranger who had nearly bulldozed him over. Eddie's eyes were narrowed in concentration as though he could not possibly fathom the sight before him. Eoin was shaking his head, muttering obscurities under his breath. Santiago had gone deathly still, ceasing his pacing for the first time since Rupert had arrived.

Rupert himself sighed and leaned forward, digging the heels of his palms into his eye sockets in frustration. "Does anyone want to tell me what the hell happened?"

Eoin snorted, his gaze still locked on the stranger's form. "Bastard can't banish me this time…"

"What?" Rupert's confusion was like a tangible curtain, covering all his other worries. "…What is going on?" He turned to look in the stranger's direction, eyebrows knitting together as puzzlement nipped at the edges of his thoughts. "Do…Do you know him?"

"Seen him around," was all that his friend offered, running a pale hand through his chestnut mane as he cracked a spiteful smile. "Let's just say he and I didn't exactly get along last time we met."

"He's with Sarah," Eddie announced suddenly, nodding in the direction of the sobbing woman the stranger was with.

"Who's Sarah?" Rupert asked.

"Colin's social worker," his roommate elaborated before falling silent, leaning back in the chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

Rupert huffed rather loudly. "And Colin would be who exactly?"

"Remember when we found that homeless boy back in December?" Eddie questioned softly. He ducked his head from view, hiding the emotion that flickered across his face. "The one Santiago took home?" Rupert nodded in understanding. "Well… We found him again."

"He'd been attacked," Santiago whispered, throwing a fleeting glance at the doors of the waiting room, which were opened by a doctor. However, the medical worker bypassed their group and continued down the long corridor. Santiago's face fell, hope disappearing little by little. "His foster father… He…"

"The fucking bastard fucking stabbed him is what happened," Eoin hissed, narrowing his eyes in defiance. "It's not that hard to explain. Mer—Colin was just lucky we were there to save his sorry ass."

"Eoin!" Santiago snarled, nudging his friend's shoulder.

"He asked what happened," Eoin deadpanned. "Didn't see you answering the question without a ten minute stutter."

"The profanities aren't necessary," his roommate defended, throwing his hands into the air with exasperation. "Honestly—"

"I think you should both calm the fuck down," Eddie interrupted, gesturing towards the man and woman seated across from the group.

The woman, Sarah, cast them a perplexed look before her brown eyes slowly filled with tears, and she closed them, digging a deeper hole into her pit of grief. The man, however, caught Rupert's stare, his own gray-green eyes widening with unbridled surprise. A bewildered expression flickered across his face, and Rupert could feel his confusion merely growing. However, an unknown part of him seemed throb with recognition; a picture flared in his mind—a golden dragon atop a background of deep red.

"My loyalty is to the King and Prince Arthur; there is nothing you can do to change that."

Rupert shook his head, his vision swimming before him, as he tried to regain his bearings. The world became slippery, but he fought past it, easily latching onto reality and pulling himself back to the present. He turned away from the strange man, eager to hear more of the events prior to the hospital visit from his friends, but he never had the chance.

"Father!?" the cry echoed through the corridor, and Rupert whipped his head in its direction.

A young man, perhaps a few years younger than Rupert himself, was rushing towards the stranger and Sarah with an expression that mirrored Rupert's own uncertainty. His blue eyes flashed wildly as he scanned the surroundings, but his gaze was locked on his father—the mysterious man who was on his feet in a mere matter of seconds.

"W-What… Art—Bradley…?" the man questioned, flabbergasted by the sudden arrival of his son. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered towards the blonde, meeting him in the middle of the waiting room. "What are you doing here?"

Arthur stampeded to a halt, breathing heavily, shoulders heaving forward as though he had ran a marathon, sprinting the entire length. "Me…? What are you doing here? Colin… Mer—Colin's here."

"You remember?" Eoin suddenly barked, jumping to his feet and interrupting the father-son conversation. Rupert made a move to pull his friend back, but Eoin swatted his hands away. "You both remember?"

Rupert felt his heart rate spike at Eoin's words, and a warmth flooded his chest as Bradley turned on his heel to face the group for the first time. He cast a bewildered look as he observed each person present, his blue eyes glazed over with wonder. When Rupert met Bradley's steady gaze, the world suddenly felt too big for him. It felt as though a wave from the Atlantic had crashed over him, the tide pulsing and ebbing as it cleansed his very core. The rush of water roared in his ears, and it drowned out all other current thoughts.

He stared at Bradley. All occupants in the waiting room stared at each other. There were no questions asked nor answers given. However, Rupert barely noticed the silence. He continued to look deep into Bradley's azure orbs, unable to make sense of what the universe was telling him.

Arthur.

"You're fucking shitting me," Bradley murmured before letting a chuckle escape him as he shook his head. "I… Do you all remember?"

Rupert closed his eyes and counted the spaces between his heartbeats, keeping time as the world spun on. He was masked in a revelation he couldn't begin to understand or accept. He felt as if he could take on the world at the very same time it was destroying him. Rupert didn't know what was happening, but as a blur of pictures, images, memories flashed through his mind, he felt himself falling back, the ground rushing up to meet him.

Arthur. Arthur Pendragon.

Rupert's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and the world faded into the darkness, taking reality with it.

Bradley was King Arthur. The stranger was King Uther. His friends were Knights of Camelot.

He was Sir Leon.

It had been one hundred and twenty minutes since Colin was admitted into Skylark Memorial, and it had been five minutes since he regained consciousness.

Richard had entered the room with a sad smile stretched out across his face, and before Colin knew it, the doctor had opened his arms in greeting. The teenager sniffled half-heartedly before letting a soft whimper escape him as he buried his head in the crook of the elder man's neck.

Richard sighed to himself and closed his eyes, stroking the back of Colin's head in order to reassure the younger man that someone was there for him. The doctor wanted nothing more than to take away the suffering Colin was going through, to honor the promise he had made regarding protection for the young boy. However, nothing could change the fact that, in the last three months, Colin had come full circle. From an abusive foster home to the promise of a family to losing it all in twelve hours….

Tears filled Richard's eyes, digging his hole of sorrow deeper. He had promised himself that he would protect the warlock, that his life would become easier, and he wouldn't have to sacrifice anything anymore; however, his plan had backfired. Richard, instead of dwelling on his past failures, holding Colin tighter. He thought Colin was completely unaware of the world around him, but as the doctor whispered words of comfort in his ear, a sob escaped Colin's lips. He bent his head forward, trying to get closer to Richard.

There were no words between them, and that was more than enough.

When the police came in later to get Colin's statement about Joe's murder, Laura's hospitalization, and Tom's criminal charges, Richard never once let go of the boy's hand. When Sarah bolted through the door some time afterwards, tear-stained face bright with a wide grin, Richard never once let Colin out of his embrace. When Tony finally brought in the papers, Richard never let his smile vanish.

He had custody of the teenager, and, once they found Caroline, he could begin the adoption process.

For the first time in his life, Colin wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

It had been six hours since Arthur had arrived at the hospital, eager to see his friend for the first time in a thousand and a half years, but his own father had turned him away.

His own father.

His knights, awaiting news on Merlin as well, were dismissed when Sarah and Uther joined Gaius in Merlin's hospital room. They needed to ease Leon into this new world with a mind that had aged a millennium in a minute. Before they departed, each had gone against protocol and embraced their King tightly, relinquishing them to the knowledge that they were all together once again. Lancelot had hesitated though and, at the last moment, had squeezed Arthur's shoulder in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture.

"He needs you," was all Lancelot could offer, and for some reason, it was more than Arthur could handle.

Soon, it was just Arthur left in the waiting room, despite his father's constant prodding to return home. Uther kept telling him how "Merlin needed time," "it was a traumatic experience," and "that Arthur couldn't help him right now." He refused, though, wanting more than anything to see Merlin just one time. Eventually, however, Uther gripped his upper arm and wrenched him from his seat, pulling him down the long corridor—away from Merlin.

"Let me go," Arthur hissed, casting a fleeting glance over his shoulder for any sign of his friend. "I need to see him."

"Don't start with me, Bradley," Uther said heatedly, ducking his head from view by the time they had made it to the parking lot. His son shuffled after him, struggling to pull his arm from Uther's hold. "We'll discuss this in the car."

"Don't you understand?" Arthur bellowed, clenching his hands into fists, knuckles white. "I need him! I need to find him! I am so fucking close that I can feel it!"

Uther watched his son unwind before him and resigned himself to a soft sigh. "Arthur—"

"You need to get me into that room! You need to let me see him!" the teenager continued, blue eyes flashing wildly. "Please! He'll know who I am! He—I… I can help him! Please… He saved my life so many times; I can't just leave him when someone's threatening his!"

"Arthur, listen to me," Uther began, but his son interrupted him.

"No." Arthur shook his head, lowering his voice when a bystander passed them. "No. I'm done listening to people. I have been searching for months – months – to find him, and now I've finally found him, and I'm not even allowed to see him. None of this is fair. You don't understand what I've been through – what we've all been through—trying to find him."

"No," Uther barked back, unable to halt his words. "You don't understand."

"What do you mean?" The retort was like a whip, quick and sharp.

Uther sighed and leaned back against the car door. "I mean… Your friend is in a very delicate situation right now."

"Considering that someone just tried to kill him I'd be inclined to agree," Arthur answered. Uther opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur cut him off. "Why do you even care anyway? It never bothered you back then."

Uther took a moment to steady himself before squaring his shoulders and facing his son. "What I do is none of your concern," he reminded Arthur, narrowing his eyes in defiance. "He is my client, and until his adoption is completed—"

"Adoption?" Arthur questioned.

"Of course," Uther replied, "Why else would I—"

"I thought you were assigned to this case because of the murders," Arthur confessed.

"His foster brother's murder was unfortunate but—"

Arthur shook his head, unable to follow Uther's train of thought. "No… No… I'm talking about the person who's killing people like us." Uther cocked his head in confusion, so his son elaborated. "The serial killer…. Morgana thinks it's Morgause, but she's working with someone else. They killed Rodor last night, and Morgana barely saved Mithian from the same fate."

Uther felt a wave of icy water cascade over him, bringing about the horrid events of nearly twenty years ago with it. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head in denial. "That… That can't be possible."

Arthur nodded. "Annis and Carleon; Vivian and Olaf…. They're all dead." His father had not recovered from the news. "…You didn't know?"

"I…" Uther was at a loss or words. "I was trying to find his birth mother—"

"Birth mother?"

Uther nodded, still focused on the news his son had provided him with. "Your servant's mother… She needs to sign over her parental rights, but no one can find her… How did you find out about the murders?"

Arthur placed a hand on his father's chest, sighing softly before taking a few steps back. "Give me three days. If I find Merlin's mother, will you let me see him?"

Uther blanched. "How on Earth will—?"

"I have my ways."

Uther nodded half-heartedly. "If you find her and tell me about the murders—"

"Call Morgana," Arthur called over his shoulder. "She pieced it together."

There was no time to recover from his son's abrupt departure. When he could no longer hear Arthur's footfalls, Uther fell back against his car in shock. The memory of the horrid murderers flickered at the forefront of his mind for a few moments, and he took a deep breath to bury them once more. He didn't need to think of such things at a time like this. Besides, he had already promised himself never to bring them up again. Though Uther himself hadn't been able to work on the case because of his direct involvement, the trial had nearly torn his life apart—as well as his son's. Uther feared what would happen if Arthur was to ever find out of what had occurred eighteen years prior…

Eighteen Years Earlier…

The blinding pain and a baby's cry pulled Uther from his sleep. He bolted upright, the blankets pooling around his waist, as his hand flew to his head. He felt something slick slip between his fingers, and he withdrew them in surprise, blood glistening under the moonlight that streamed through the window. Uther struggled to regain his bearings after waking from his slumber so abruptly, but a flash of silver entered his vision. He found himself rolling off of the bed and onto unsteady legs. His vision swam before him, and he fumbled in the darkness, attempting to locate his pistol that he kept in his bedside table drawer.

"Well, well, well," a voice said lowly, interrupting Uther's mad dash for protection. "Look at how the mighty have fallen, My Lord."

Uther raised his head, catching sight of a familiar figure. "…Rick?"

His brother-in-law chuckled lowly. "Don't play pretend, Uther Pendragon. I know you remember me. Last time we met, you killed me."

"You… Tristan…" Uther gripped his head in obvious pain; Tristan had obviously bludgeoned him with something. "What's going on…?" His gaze flickered to Tristan's hands where his brother-in-law clutched a knife as well as the lamp from his beside table. The base of the lamp was cracked, and crimson droplets sparkled in the dim light.

A sudden thought hit Uther. His gun was on the other side of the room.

Another cry split the air, cutting through Uther's heart as his eyes widened to an impossible degree. It was his son. Tristan's lips curled into a maniacal grin, his dark eyes glinting with a malicious intent, flickering to the open door. Uther knew it would lead into the hallway where, only a few steps to the right, a door would lead to his son's nursery.

"Little Arthur," Tristan cooed mockingly. "Seems like he's being a naughty boy, Uther. Should we go give him a time out?"

"Leave my son alone," Uther snarled, but it was too late.

Tristan was already bolting towards the nursery.

With his heart lodged in his throat, Uther rushed after his brother-and-law, disregarding the fact that he had no weapon to defend himself or his son with. All he cared about was Arthur's safety—Arthur's life—nothing could happen to him. Uther refused to let anything harm his son! Without a second thought, he dove at Tristan, hooking him around the legs. The two tumbled to a halt outside of the nursery, both fighting to get an upper hand on the weapon Tristan held.

A baby's cry grew to a new octave, screeching through the night like a banshee, matching the police sirens tone for tone…

Uther refused to let himself be haunted by his memories.

He wrenched the car door open before plopping down in the leather seat. If Arthur was right—if people were killing them again—he didn't know how to protect his Camelot's guardian without his memories and Arthur without a sword, there was no chance for destiny to repeat itself.

For the first time since he regained his lost memories, Uther knew he had to rely on Fate to take the reigns and protect them all.