Hey awesome people!

So look who finally got around to posting this! Long story short, I apologize profusely for the long wait. I work three jobs, have two softball teams, and am trying to prepare myself for the second year of college. Whoot! Go me! Anyway, onto the actual chapter because that's all we really care about. First off, let me take this moment to thank CaptainOzone for her wonderful betaing, and if any of you are Danny Phantom fans, advise you to check out her new story, Shift. Also, I can't promise to have constant updates as college starts in... a month and a half. But I can promise this story is still rolling! So, if you're still with me, I hope you like this! And thank you, thank you for all the support you've given me. The last seven months have been hard, and it's lovely to come back to know you guys are still here.

Have a great day!
Erin

In this chapter, Colin is Merlin. Richard is Gaius. Santiago is Lancelot. Eddie is Percival. Eoin is Gwaine. Rupert is Leon. Bradley is Arthur. Angel is Gwen. Katie is Morgana.

WARNING: mentions of underage drinking

Chapter Seventeen
"And the walls kept tumbling down,
In the city that we love.
Great clouds roll over the hills,
Bringing darkness from above."
-"Pompeii" by Bastille

"Does this shirt work?" Colin asked as he peered around the corner of Richard's office, eyebrow quirked inquiringly. He held up a purple and white plaid shirt in front of his torso, gesturing to the dark jeans he was currently wearing.

His adoptive father narrowed his eyes in the teenager's direction, scrutinizing his appearance with a careful glance before nodding his consent. "It… looks alright." Richard made a move to turn back to his work but paused. "Since when do you ask me for fashion advice?"

The dark-haired boy flashed him a hesitant smile, blue eyes sparkling sheepishly, as he lowered the shirt to his side. "Bradley actually invited me to his flat tonight."

"And did you think of possibly asking my permission to do so?" Richard responded, laying his pen down atop of a pile of papers he was currently overlooking. "I am your guardian after all."

Colin ducked his gaze from view as he stepped into the room, feet shuffling against the cream-colored carpeting. "Sorry… Guess it slipped my mind."

Richard managed a small smile as he observed the younger man. He remembered a millennium prior when the same look crossed his young ward's face, when the fate of his Queen and the sanity of his King hung in the balance, and all the sorcerer had cared for was whether he passed as a convincing female. He chuckled at the memory and shook his head, turning his attention to the pile of papers and manila folders in front of him. Picking up his pen, he adjusted his glasses and began writing once more, ignoring Colin who stood in the doorway, uncertain of the older man's reaction.

"...Does that mean I'm allowed to go?" he asked as silence settled between them.

Richard quirked an eyebrow and peered at the boy from behind his glasses. "Even if I say no, you'll still go."

Colin paused, fisting the shirt in his head. "Are you saying no?"

Richard sighed and placed his pen on a pad of paper once more, folding his arms against his chest as he leaned back in his desk chair. He had lived a long life, and he knew that any other teenager would have flashed him a bright smile and taken off. However, Colin wasn't like any other teenager in this day and age. He was a boy who had seen more in his seventeen years than many did in their lifetime. He was burdened by powers that, according to modern day culture, weren't supposed to even exist. He had been bounced around from foster home to foster home, never wanted and never loved. He had seen his first real friend murdered and nearly lost his girlfriend to the same fate, and she was only hanging onto this life by a thread of luck. He had been abused and tortured, for his powers and for money, and he had never once caught a break.

Not until Richard came into his life.

"I'm saying yes," Richard told him, cracking a small smile. "Just promise me that you'll be careful."

Exuberance broke out across Colin's face, and he struggled to keep his happiness from bubbling over. "Yes, of course! Of course!"

Richard narrowed his eyes. "I mean it, Colin. Tom is still out there. Be careful."

The younger man sobered, the seriousness of the situation overtaking him. "I promise. I'll watch out for him." And Richard knew he would.

The thought of Tom struck a chord in his chest, and he swallowed a lump in his throat, worry pooling in his heart. Cenred, he told himself, had caused more pain than Richard would ever care to admit. He deserved to be put behind bars for the rest of his life, and once the police captured him, he would be. However, Colin's ex-foster father remained missing amongst the people of New York and was probably lurking in the shadows and waiting for the right moment to strike. He would be intent on revenge, and Richard didn't know if he could handle it if anything happened to Colin.

The young boy had already been through so much. Hadn't fate dealt him enough hardship yet?

Regardless, the difficulty he faced this time around wouldn't be worth it if he was caught. Tom would most certainly kill the boy if he found him.

"Call me when you get there," Richard called out as his ward made a move to leave the office.

Colin stuck his head back into the room. "But I don't have a phone—"

"I'm sure Bradley has one you could use," the doctor said. He pushed himself to his feet and shoved his hand in his back pocket, digging around for his cellphone. Without further prompting, he strode forward and pressed the device into Colin's hands. "For emergencies only."

Colin's features softened, and he let a small smile cross his face. "Thank you. Really, Richard. Thank you, for everything." He grabbed the phone and brought it to his chest. "I'm gonna leave, alright?"

"Have fun," Richard said.

"I'll try."

"Don't drink."

Colin raised an eyebrow in confusion. "But I'm too young—"

"I wouldn't put it past Bradley."

"Alright, good to know. I'll make a note of it… See you."

"Goodbye."

Colin ambled down the hallway and towards the entrance of the building. Richard listened until he could no longer hear the shuffling of the younger man's Converse against the carpeting before seating himself in his chair. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows atop the desk and cradled his head in his hands, sending a silent prayer to whatever gods above that Colin would return home, safe and sound.

He also added a side note.

He knew the true intention of Bradley's invitation, and he hoped for a small chance that everything would play out according to plan. If the young boy left as the teenage Colin, afraid of his own abilities, and came back as the millennium-old Merlin, the man with the destiny and the magic lost to time… Well, Richard wouldn't argue. At the very least, whoever Colin returned as, he would still have his son.

And Richard wouldn't change that for anything.

When Colin entered the apartment complex a few blocks from Richard's office, he took a deep breath, his shoulders heaving forward, before pushing open the door. As a child, he had never had a social life, choosing to be a recluse in his own fear that he'd hurt someone with his magic rather than try to find a friend, someone he could share his secret with. Nowadays, it seemed like everything was falling into place, and he was finally getting everything he wanted. Richard was his family, and Bradley could quite possibly be his friend.

He buzzed into the complex, opened the door with sweaty hands, and ascended a staircase on shaky legs. He fought the urge to turn and run, hide under his blankets back home, but he pushed forward. He was moving on with his life, to better and brighter places, and he needed a friend to do this.

(Granted, he knew he'd never have a true friend, someone he could tell of his magic. Laura was the first and only person to ever accept him for who he truly was, and the thought of what had happened to her caused his stomach to clench in disgust. He couldn't risk anyone else. He'd never allow himself to get that close to someone ever again. He just couldn't.)

When he finally reached the flat Bradley had dubbed as his own, Colin raised his fist and banged his knuckles against the light wooden door. He could hear the distinct sound of laughter and the buzz of a television filter past the barrier, and he rocked back on his heels, preparing to run if needed. He didn't plan on it, but after a whole life of running and hiding, he was accustomed to the action no matter what the situation. Footsteps were audible as they clamped against the floor, and Colin took a deep breath.

When the door finally opened, he let his mouth drop open in shock, and numbness flooded through him. "S-Santiago?"

The older man, the same one who had been a catalyst for the changes in his life, stood tall in the doorway of Bradley's apartment. Colin quirked his eyebrows high in confusion, bewilderment filling him, and he struggled to make sense of the situation he had been thrown into.

"Colin," Santiago greeted, a sparkle evident in his brown eyes. "Glad to see you back on your feet and not bleeding out in the back of a cab." The brunet seemed to flinch inwardly at his self-reminder and sighed, flashing the younger man a bright grin. "How've you been?"

"It's good to see you too," Colin answered, his tone wavering as the air became thick with tension. "...What are you doing here?"

"Bradley invited me and the guys over for some poker," the older man said, pushing the door open fully so that Colin could peer over his shoulder and into the apartment.

Three men sat a table with Bradley. One was casually sipping a bottle of beer, his ginger hair tied back in a loose ponytail, as he nudged Bradley in good jest and gestured towards the two men seated the table. A long haired brunet glared back at them before throwing down his card, chucking his aluminum beer can across the room to channel his frustration and watched it backboard off the wall, while the other man looked on, leaning back in his chair with unbridled laughter. His shirt rode up as he did so, and Colin's eyes zeroed in on the holster on his hip. Poker chips adjourned the players, and while each had a sizeable pile, a dark-haired woman seated next to Bradley was obviously winning the game. Colin was unsure of her identity, but he assumed she was either Katie, Bradley's sister, or Angel, Bradley's fiancee.

"Oh, so you know Bradley?" Colin asked, turning his attention back to Santiago.

The memories of the last time he had seen the man were lost in a blur of emotion and pain (flashes of blood on the seat, pain - ohgodI'mdyingArthur'sdyingcan'tlethimdiedon'twanthimtodie - in his chest, and the warmth of the magic - Arthurwho'sArthurIknowArthurwho'sArthur - burning across his skin), but he knew that Santiago had saved his life. He couldn't be more grateful to the man who had already done so much. Santiago had introduced him to Richard and gave him hope when he thought he had lost it all. He saved him when Colin was too scared to ask for help, and he rescued him when it all became too much. He even accepted Colin for who he was: scars, suffering, and sorcery alike. If he could, Colin knew he'd call Santiago a friend.

"Yeah, met him at uni," Santiago said. "So, you coming in?"

Colin smiled and nodded. "Of course. You know me. Always ready for a party." There was a slight tickle in the back of his head, prodding him with questions about the fact that two of the most important people in his life knew one another. He chose to chalk it up as a very lucky coincidence (and he hoped it would stay that way).

The moment he entered the room, the laughter died, and all eyes turned to look his way. It was like he was stepping into a foster home for the first time, and, having done that numerous times throughout his life, he already had low expectations. Usually, there was a murmured greeting and a flick of the wrist to direct him towards his room where he holed up for the next few months until even the monthly payments from the state weren't enough to satisfy his presence for his caretakers. However, this wasn't a foster home, and these people wanted him there. Now, he waited with baited breath for the occupants to make a move, gauging their reactions to his untimely entrance.

There wasn't much time to debate running away or taking a risk as Santiago placed a strong hand on his shoulder and maneuvered him to the table. Colin's breath caught in his throat as the wide eyes watched him trek towards them, and he swallowed convulsively. He shuffled to a halt across from Bradley and plastered a full-tooth grin on his face.

"Hey," he choked out. "I'm Colin."

The long haired brunet stared at him with age-old eyes, and a flash of familiarity overcame him. "Welcome to the party!" he suddenly announced, standing up abruptly and sending his folding chair clattering to the hardwood floors beneath. There was a slight pause until the man commented, "Well, the neighbors'll feel that come morning." He turned his attention back to Colin, and the younger male found out that his own smile slowly becoming real. "I'm Eoin, pleasure to meet'cha."

"You two've got yourselves in a bit of a pickle, haven't ya?"

Colin shook his head as the older man launched into introductions. "This here," he said, gesturing to the Gun Man, "is Eddie."

"Your enemies are my enemies."

"Over on your left, we've got good 'ole Rupert."

"Oh, driving you mad, is he?"

"Oi, you calling me old?" Rupert called him out.

"If the shoe fits," Eoin shot back.

Santiago chuckled lowly and cleared his throat. "Alright, you all. Buck up and make a place for Colin here." There were a series of squeals and shrieks as the occupants shifted in their metal chairs, bouncing back and forth until a spot was cleared beside Bradley.

Seeing the familiar face, Colin felt a small smile worm its way across his face as he got a folding chair and plopped down next to his co-worker. "Long time, no see," he said, taking a drink that Eoin offered him.

Bradley ducked his head in greeting, and Colin quirked an eyebrow in confusion at his friend's antics. The dark haired beauty beside him giggled under her breath, the sound like trilling bells perched on a porch when the wind whistled by. "Ignore him, Colin. He lost the last round."

"Sore loser?" Colin supplied. Santiago snorted in response. "Doesn't surprise me."

There was a beat of silence until Eoin let out a sharp bark of laughter, throwing his head back in jubilation. The sound startled Colin who promptly spilled his drink into the lap of the hapless Bradley beside him.

"Sorry, so sorry," Colin stammered as he stood up, searching for a rag to hand to his friend.

Bradley jumped to his feet, staring at the pool beneath him and the stain on his jeans. His cheeks were flushed with barely restrained fury, but a wave of bewilderment crashed over him as he sniffed the air. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before turning to Eoin. "Is this beer?"

Even the older man had the decency to look sheepish under Bradley's smoldering glare. "Might be."

"He's seventeen."

"And I'm twenty-three. Been there, done that," Eoin quipped in reply.

Eddie clipped his friend over the top of the head and narrowed his eyes in admonishment "Don't make me arrest you."

An icy shiver ran down the back of Colin's spine. "You're a police officer?"

"Sure am. Going on two years now."

"Oh," Colin said sullenly, staring at the wall opposite the man.

He had high hopes that he could form a solid relationship with Bradley's friends (perhaps even call them his own one day), but the fact remained that he and the NYPD did not get along. He had been thrust from foster home to foster home and dealt with his fair share of murders, thefts, and seventeen years of accusations. There was no question as to why Colin remained perfidious in the eyes of the law.

Eddie's stare was heavy. "You've dealt with police before, right?"

The words pulled Colin from his reverie, and he whipped his head towards the older man. The blunt delivery had fazed him more than he cared to admit. "...What's it to you?"

Eddie took a sip of his drink, licking his lips, before sighing and leaned forward against the table. "I might as well introduce myself fully then. My name's Eddie. Santiago, Eoin, and I were the ones who found you in the alley."

Silence lingered for a few seconds before Colin leaned closer to Santiago who was positioned on his left. "Is he always this blunt?"

The table erupted in a low laughter, and Colin pushed down two large gulps of the drink that had been placed in front of him. The bitter taste burned his throat, and he stifled the wince, hoping that no one noticed his mortification at the surprise of finding beer in his possession once more. He pushed the can away from the edge of the table, towards the poker chips that had suddenly appeared in front of him.

"So, is every Friday night Poker night?" he asked, casting Bradley a sidelong glance.

"Friday's Party Night," Eoin interjected. From the eye rolls in response to the older man's statement, Colin guessed that this was a particularly familiar phrase.

Bradley smiled and shook his head. "We play poker often enough, and I figured you knew how to play, so I settled on this for tonight."

"What gave that away?" Colin asked as he studied his friend carefully.

"You mentioned your foster brother knew how to play," the blond answered, taking a swig of beer. "It's an easy assumption."

Colin heard Rupert snort into his drink but paid him no heed, instead revelling in the warm flare that had erupted in his chest at the idea that someone had finally cared enough to listen to him. "...Lucky guess," he said quietly, sending a small smile in his friend's direction.

Bradley's eyes, visible over the top of his cup, softened, and he ducked his head towards Colin in a cordial gesture.

"More than just a lucky guess, I reckon," Eoin said, smirking as if he knew the world's greatest secret, one that would surely spell an end for all of humanity.

Colin wouldn't be surprised if that were fact.

Before Colin could form a response, a soprano voice cut in, slicing through the air. "Honestly, you started without me? You're just scared that I'm going to win. That's what this all is."

Colin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and turned in his seat, casting a sideways glance over his shoulder. The sight that greeted stole his breath away. A woman stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living space, the light illuminating her emerald eyes until they were merely two gems sparkling away, seeming to pierce into his very soul. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple plait, draped over her shoulder as she cocked her head in his direction, surprise etched upon her face. She raised a shaky hand to cover her mouth, unable to comprehend her shock into words, and Colin found himself in the same situation.

No one in the room made a sound. Everyone seemed to be concentrating on the fluttering connection between him and the mystery woman.

The connection seemed to create a warmth inside him, much like his magic did. He blinked his eyes in rapid repetition, wondering if the blue orbs had turned a molten gold. He hoped not. Power was exploding in his chest, and it was almost as if the connection had turned tangible, creating a cord between them. All it would take would be a simple touch, and the cord would become knotted, unwavering, never able to be broken or severed.

Their gazes locked, and a single thought echoed through his head.

I know her.

Because Colin, honest to God, couldn't explain it any other way. Somewhere, somewhen…. He had to have met this girl before because there wasn't any other explanation. Because it wasn't Fate, it wasn't Destiny. There were no such things! He had signed up to play a poker with people who seemed to care, people who asked him how his day was and seemed to actually give a damn about his answer. He didn't turn up to deal with some philosophical bullshit that life just decided to throw at him! It wasn't enough that his life couldn't possibly get worse, or that he had magic, or that everything from those old fairy tales seemed to be real. No, there had to be shining moment, a curveball he would never hit, and this was it.

He had met her before…. But where?

Sitting at the table with silence around him, Colin turned the question over in his mind once more. He couldn't form a rational answer because the way his magic blazed at her presence as if greeting a long-lost friend when he had never met her before today was definitely not normal. A dull ache formed between his eyebrows and traveled down his face, tingles shooting through his head, and he pushed himself to his feet in a rush, stumbling forward as the world tilted on its axis.

All was quiet, but he wasn't alone. Hands rushed out to steady him, grasping at his shirt, but he slipped between their fingers and crumpled to the ground. He knew someone was beside him, questions of concern swirling overhead, but he couldn't seem to push himself to answer. He pushed himself up on trembling hands and knees, and he stared at the hardwood floor beneath him. He thought about lying down, if only to have an excuse to shut his eyes. He could use the rest, but he didn't want to sleep. Something was happening; he could feel it. However, as he chased the thought, it seemed to flare once before fading, growing dimmer like a burning ember in the fireplace, one last light before it all went dark.

"...Merlin?" she said, and he whipped his head up, bright blue connecting with the gorgeous green.

Merlin? he thought. Who's Merlin? The name wasn't lost on him, and it was becoming a common coincidence.

He swallowed hard, chasing away the building suspicion. "No… Uhm, I'm C-Colin," he said, staggering to his feet.

The expression on her face was crestfallen, and guilt flooded through him. No angel should look as if they had been slaughtered, their wings shredded by an evildoer. And while he had done nothing to warrant the reaction (that he knew of), he thought he deserved it all the while. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her tight, keep the darkness at bay and never let anyone hurt her. He wondered where these instincts were coming from, and he had to admit that they scared him.

He had never believed in love at first sight. At least not in the literal sense. He never spared soulmates a thought either, and he definitely didn't consider the woman before him to be any of the above. However, after everything he had been through, after everything he had seen in his short seventeen years, how could a predestined connection be that much of a leap off of wizards and dragons and magic itself?

"What happened?" Colin asked in a groggy voice.

Morgana reached for him. How do I know her name? "I was wondering…" He drew himself to his full height, and she stepped back. "...If you could tell me."

"A bit tired," he mumbled under his breath before clearing his throat. "I've been overworked—"

"Please, as if you've ever worked a day in your life!" Eoin's voice sounded from beside him in good jest.

Colin fixed him with a deadly glare. "Then it must be the beer."

At least the older man had the decency to manage a sheepish smile.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" Morgana asked in a soft voice.

Colin turned to answer her, locking their gazes, and his world blurred again. He didn't understand. Reality was dark, and abstract was light. The two merged together, making it impossible for him to differentiate. They twisted and twirled, thrashing and turning as they made a path. The path could be traveled, though….

He didn't understand it.

"Yeah…" He raised a hand to the back of his head, rubbing the base of his neck nervously. "I might be…. I'm sorry, but have we met before?" Morgana sucked in a breath and raised her hands in shock. He cocked his head in confusion as he studied her hopeful expression. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to answer but seemed to choke back her words. "Yes… I am. I just…"

Morgana crumpled in on herself, lowering her head so that her chin rested against her chest. Her hand fisted the center of her shirt, right above her heart, as she took a moment to compose herself. She flashed Colin a tight smile, clenching her eyes shut.

"...Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his voice wavering.

She nodded frantically, a low laugh escaping her lips. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I swear, I'm fine." He didn't know if she was trying to convince him or reassure herself. "Really, I'm alright."

"Alright." Colin laughed to himself, and she snickered in response.

"Sorry," Morgana said. "Heartburn."

"Too much beer?" Eoin interjected as he cast a wicked smile in her direction.

"Too much Eoin," she shot back, flashing him a sharp smirk.

"You know you want it."

"I pity the girl who ends up with you."

"Aw, don't be like that, my dear."

"A shame, really. Those looks wasted on a worthless man."

"You wound me."

"Who'd've thought it? You actually have a heart."

"Who'd've thought it? A worthless servant with all that power."

"Whoa, hold it, hold it," Bradley said, holding out his hands in efforts to placate the bantering parties. "We have a game to finish-"

"You mean you have a game to lose," Santiago finished, earning a round of roaring laughter from the group.

"...the Lady Morgana."

"Colin?" He snapped his head up, letting his thoughts drift away, as he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. Bradley's sister stood before him, a hesitant smile etched upon his face, offering him a hand. "I'm Katie."

"It's nice to meet you," he stammered, shaking his head as if to clear the cobwebs away. "Bradley's told me a lot about you."

"Good things I hope."

"Don't we all?" She laughed, her soprano voice echoing through the room like trilling bells. He took the moment to reach out and gently shook her head. "Still…. It's nice to meet you, Morgana." He clasped her hand tightly, and a warmth overcame him.

He shivered slightly, ignorant of the sudden drop in temperature throughout the room. He merely stared at the dark-haired woman in front of him, a woman who had wide emerald eyes he swore had just reflected the same molten glow of his magic.

He was running down a sidewalk, his Converse pounding against the wet pavement, when an unknown force sent him flying through the air and proceeded to propel him into the windshield of a car. Glass exploded around him, and he settled across the front seat of the car, head cracked against the side door. Blood, already flowing from numerous cuts, gushed from his temple, and the world spun around him. The shards rained down from the windows, mirrors, and windshield. The glass dug into his arms, and he raised his hands to protect himself from future attacks.

Suddenly, the car lurched to the side, and he was thrown across the seats. There was a ripping of metal ringing through his ears, and soon, he was sailing through the air until his back made contact with cement. He laid there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. His ribs ached, and each breath might as well have been the last from the way pain and misery flowed through his body. The absolute agony paralyzed him.

Footsteps echoed in the distance, and the man struggled to find his voice. Someone stroked the raw skin of his cheek, and he let out a strangled scream.

"This could have gone easier," a voice announced as he was flipped over, pain screaming through his body. He tried to catch his breath through dry sobs. "All you had to do was call her out here, and we wouldn't have had to go through all this. I don't like bloody battles."

There was a pause as the woman came closer. "You'd know that well, wouldn't you, Sir Elyan?"

And all he knew was Darkness.