Hey guys,

There's really no excuse for my long hiatus. I can't really say anything other than I'm not dead. Unfortunately, a lot has changed over the last few years: I'm almost done with my undergraduate program, I've become involved in other fandoms, and spent a lot of time improving as a writer. I've seen all your comments, heard everything you've had to say, but real life is more important and mine's really taking off right now, and for the first time in a long while, I'm really, really happy with where I am right now.

That being said, I wanted to thank you for your continued support and reading. There's new readers everyday and I see it all and wish so much I could give you more. So, here's my attempt. I made you all a promise that this would be eventually finished, and it is.

If you have any questions/concerns, feel free to let me know. You'll have to excuse me if there's any odd plot happenings in here. I scounged this from a half-written chapter and my older notes in order to post. If there's anything confusing, please let me know. Anyway, without further ado, here's the new chapter!
Erin

In this chapter, Andy is Elyan. Colin is Merlin. Angel is Gwen. Bradley is Arthur. Katie is Morgana. You know, I think you get this by now?

Chapter Nineteen
"We rise and we fall,
We'll stay untouchable."
-"Untouchable" by Tritonal

The phone was ringing.

The phone was ringing, Morgana was screaming, and Gwen didn't know what to do. Her world turned slippery, gravity lifting as she fell off her axis and out of orbit—spinning, spinning, spinning—and she couldn't find a handhold to anchor herself to the surface. There was so much happening… Where was she supposed to be?

"Guinevere." Arthur's voice broke through her frantic reverie. "The phone, get the phone."

Her gaze settled on him as he crouched over Morgana who was propped up on trembling hands and knees over a pale Colin trapped beneath her on the sofa. Arthur had a steady hand on her lower back, whispering soothing words into her ear, while the rest of the room stood still around them. Gwen wanted to join them, her tight-knit little family, but the insistent wailing of the home phone on the kitchen counter beckoned her away.

"She's killing him, she's killing him," Morgana sobbed, shoulders heaving forward with each gasp of air. "She's… She's… She's found us. We're doomed, we're all doomed."

Gwen couldn't bare it anymore. Turning her back on her friends, she rushed to the phone cradle and grabbed the device, fumbling with the buttons, until it was raised to her hear. "H-Hello?" she said in a croaky voice, furiously wiping underneath her lashes in case any prickling tears had escaped. "James residence, Angel speaking—"

"Ah, Guinevere." A sweet, syrupy voice drizzled through the speakers, and Gwen's blood ran cold through her body. Fingers tightened around the phone, white-knuckled grip threatening to crack it. "So lovely to hear from you again."

This wasn't possible, she told herself. This wasn't her—she hadn't been reincarnated. Of all people for Merlin's magic to touch, how could it have weaved its legendary powers into the roots of Morgause? Of all people… Wasn't there a limit to his magic? But then again… The thought struck her: his magic had touched everyone.

"Morgause," she whispered, a soft voice lost in the howling wind of a raging storm. She reached back behind her, trying to find a handhold—anything that would keep her upright—and found the counter edge for support.

"Seems like you do remember, after all." She could hear the smile on the witch's voice, victory falling from her lip. It was clear she thought she'd won the game, and Gwen still couldn't figure out what they were playing. "Your brother thought differently. Did you hear that, my knight?"

Gwen's hands were shaking so badly that only Arthur's warm fingers curling around hers and the phone to keep it from slipping. "Elyan?" she croaked in a cracked, broken voice. "Elyan?!"

Through the speakers, muffled groans and thumps echoed in her ear, and Gwen let out a low whine, fear and panic coursing through her veins, and only Arthur's presence by her side gave her the strength to still stand. Even though she had ruled many decades as Queen of Camelot, strong and resilient against any adversity she faced, Elyan in danger and Morgause brought her back to a time before all that—when she was the blacksmith's daughter, scared of anything and everything related to magic.

"I'd say your brother is pleased to hear from you," Morgause drawled out, "But I don't believe that's the case."

Her heart leapt in her throat, and she lost her grip on the phone. If it wasn't for Arthur, she wouldn't have been standing. Tentative hands wrapped around her shoulders, gently guiding her to a kitchen chair as her trembling knees finally gave out, and she collapsed in a heap of fear and misery. Lancelot sat next to her, his touch the only thing keeping her grounded, as Arthur plucked the phone from mid-air after it'd slipped from her ear, putting it on speaker for the whole room to hear.

"Morgause?" Arthur hissed between gritted teeth, holding his breath as if he was afraid of the answer.

A sinister laugh echoed through the phone like tolling bells atop Lucifer's tower, slicing through the air and striking fear in everyone's hearts. Faces paled, eyes widened, and no one even breathed as they waited for the response. Morgana was the worst—white as the Dorocha she'd once summoned long ago—and if Gwen hadn't heard her screaming just moments before, she'd fear her friend was dead.

"Oh, Arthur." His name was spoken like a sigh, a tender breath of someone welcoming a long-lost friend home. "It's so lovely to hear from you. For a short time, I was worried you hadn't come back. I don't know why I thought that considering everyone else made it over, but there was always the concern. It wasn't until Nimueh found your friend Merlin that we knew for certain."

"Nimueh?" Percival asked, arching an eyebrow in surprise. "She was Merlin's lover—" Morgause laughed once more, a tinkling sound like wind chimes; Arthur wondered how someone so beautiful and so powerful could be so evil.

"Nimueh?" she asked incredulously. "Oh how she loved that part, how the legends were twisted so far from the truth. History really outdid itself with that part."

"It's not the only thing that twisted the truth," Morgana hissed suddenly, her words stunning Morgause into silence.

"Morgana," the witch whispered softly. "Sister, it is so wonderful to hear from you—"

"I wish I could grant you the same pleasantries," Morgana snapped, hands curling into tight fists in her lap. Colin shifted in his seat, curling around her as if he could somehow protect her from the mysterious voice on the phone that had everyone on edge.

"Be rest assured, sister, we will meet again under the proper terms," Morgause promised. "And whether you agree to stand by my side or not, you will join me. You have no choice in the matter. Then everything will truly be as it should, and we can achieve what I've spent the last ten years doing."

"What have you been doing?" Morgana croaked in response, her lips pressing into a thin, wobbly line, almost as if she were afraid to ask.

"Do you really have to ask that?"

Morgana swallowed thickly. "There's been murders."

"Simply returning the dead to where they're supposed to be," Morgause said offhandedly.

"You're a monster." Gwen pressed a hand over her mouth, debating whether running to the restroom was out of the question—discussing killing so openly… it wasn't something she was used too in this lifetime. As much as she retained Guinevere's memories, a part of Angel still cried inside for the lives lost. "They had lives—"

"As did I," she quipped in return. "Yet your Merlin still saw fit to end it."

"No, no," Morgana interjected, pushing herself to her feet with eyes glinting wildly in anger. "I was the one who killed you on the island, to open the curtain, if you should be after anyone it should be me—"

"Calm down, sister dear." Morgause chuckled lowly. "I am simply collecting the magic your friend left behind. Revenge is such a dirty game, one I'd rather not sully myself with."

Gwen cocked her head, staring at the phone in Arthur's hand. "But murder is cleaner."

"The magic is what keeps us alive," Morgause told her, silencing the agitated room once more. "When your pretty little warlock cast the reincarnation spell, each life that played a part in our story was infused with his magic." Her voice grew soft and quiet. "Nimueh told me that much before he killed her."

"W-What… is going on?" Colin suddenly asked breathlessly, starting everyone from their reveries. Heart sinking to the pit of her stomach, Gwen turned to face the younger man as he sat stone-faced and silent until that moment at Morgana's side, hands still clasped on her elbow to keep her steady.

There was a sharp intake of breath heard over the speakers, and Arthur's eyes widened in panic, fearful of Morgause's reaction, but Colin's shaky voice stopped him from acting, a soft, "Bradley, what's happening?" cutting through the air.

"Merlin," Morgause said. "You found him, Arthur, didn't you?"

"Bradley?" Colin asked, and Arthur held a hand up to silence him, eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to form a coherent answer.

"No one's heard from Merlin since Camelot," Arthur told her, biting his bottom lip to keep his composure, nerves frazzled and worn at their frayed ends. "I doubt he's even in this life."

"You lie, Arthur Pendragon," she whispered lowly, making the hair on the back of Gwen's neck stand on end. "I've seen him. Nimueh had him in her grasp before he killed her—though... I supposed you'd know her better as Michelle, wouldn't you, Colin? The foster mother who took you in, and in return you shoved a dagger between her ribs, mauling her heart to ribbons like a hungry lion catching its defenseless pray—"

There was a soft whine that fell from Colin's lips—so soft that Gwen had to strain to hear it—but it dropped into a silent room like a bomb, the flash and bang creating a crater and burning everyone on the premise. It hurt to hear it from their friend, and it was only Morgana whispering in his ear, muffled words of comfort that calmed his heart and prevented any further attacks, that kept him from breaking apart completely. Tears prickled in the corner of her eyes as she couldn't even fathom what hardships Colin could have gone through before Gaius had found him—Arthur knew nearly nothing, and what little he had found, he wasn't too inclined to share.

"There's no Colin—" Arthur tried again, almost the king, protecting those he loved and cared for, but Morgause interrupted him once more.

"I warn you not to lie again else your dear knight will pay the price—as he has before." There was a scrape and a loud cry from over the speakers—she knew without a doubt that it was Elyan.

"You will not touch him," Gwen cried out from the side, startling Colin further. "If you hurt him—"

"I'd be more worried about your precious husband," Morgause said, voice frosty and sending shivers down her spine. It was like the entire room had frozen over—royals, wizards, and knights unable to move or form words. "It's him I'd like to make a deal with, and if he doesn't deliver, you're your brother dies. It's truly that simple, I'm afraid."

"What do you want?" It was the question on everyone's minds, but all were too afraid to ask.

"I want Merlin's back," Morgause said. "Just as Michelle did." Colin shivered in Morgana's arms.

Arthur shook his head, even if the witch couldn't see him, and tightened his grip on the phone, hissing frantically under his breath, "That's not happening, that will never happen, if you think you'll get close enough to even touch him, you'll be dead before you even try. I promise, I will kill—"

"Precisely why I expect you to hand yourself over." Her response stunned Arthur into silence, and he cast an incredulous look around the room, catching the rest of his knight's confused expressions. "As I told you, Arthur, it's really quite simple. I'm not stupid enough to take you all on, catch your little warlock with the big bad knights protecting him. I value my life far more more than that."

"If you think I'd surrender myself to you willingly—"

"And that's exactly what you'll do." A hushed murmur sounded through the speakers, and Gwen stiffened in recognition of an Old Religion spell falling from the witch's lips. It became quite apparent what she was doing as Elyan's shrieks and wails echoed shortly after, tearing into Gwen's heart like a meat cleaver to the muscle, bloody and broken and beyond repair. "Your life for your knight's. Someone will die when the moon rises tonight—it's your decision."

"No." Gwen let out a raspy moan, head falling into her hands and tears breaking free. "You can't…" There was so much she hadn't done yet, so much she had never said, so much Elyan needed to see and hear; so much time had been lost between them in their first life, again in their second, and she didn't know if she could survive losing him once more. "Elyan, he—"

"He's on borrowed time, Guinevere, I'm so sorry." Morgause almost sounded gleeful. "Either way, you will lose someone tonight, whether it be a brother or a husband, but that it ultimately up to your husband. Tell me, Arthur, who will it be? The end of a disgraced knight who ran away when things grew tough, or the death of the reincarnated King?"

Morgana's head whipped up in panic, eyes sparking a soft golden glow at the memory of the prophecy she'd made many nights ago. "The reincarnated King," she repeated, testing the words on the tip of her tongue, the familiarity striking fear in the deepest depths of her heart.

"Make your decision quickly, and I do hope it's the right one. Meet me at East River helicopter launch pad. Come alone, please, I'd hate to spill more blood than necessary."

There was short beat of silence, the span of a single heartbeat, then the long drone of a dial tone that wailed like a grieving ghost, reaching within the depths of their souls and jarring their cold, damp bones. No one spoke a word, too afraid to break first, and Gwen didn't know how to react. Everyone waited with baited breath for someone else to make a move, but no one dared. The perilous situation they'd been thrown into… With only one option out… And either way…. Someone would die.

Gwen couldn't do this again. She couldn't lose her brother. She couldn't lose her husband. She couldn't—not again, not again, not again, not again—

"What the hell happened?" Colin's voice broke through like the final blow to a creaking dam. "Will someone fucking explain what the hell just happened?!"

Arthur put the phone back in its cradle, pale-faced and tortured expression, as he turned around to face the other man. "…I think it's time we told you the truth."

Morgana buried her face in her hands; no one dared to look Colin in the eye. "What's… What d'ya mean?" he asked softly.

"Have you ever heard of King Arthur and Merlin?"

"You've gotta be fucking joking me," Colin said, shaking his head. "This isn't happening."

"Excuse me?" Arthur quirked an eyebrow high in confusion. "I assure you, this isn't a joke—"

Colin threw his hands in the air with exasperation, a shaky laugh falling from his lips. "Are you sure? Because this seems pretty damn funny to me. You're telling me that I'm standing in King Arthur's apartment with the Knights of the Round Table and the evil witch Morgana, and—"

"Just Morgana will do," Morgana quipped from her spot in the corner of the couch, legs curled under her, face still drawn and pale. A cup of coffee was clenched between her shaky fingers, and she couldn't even meet Colin's heavy stare. "But you're free to call me Katie still, rest assured, nothing has to change right now."

"Well, well… That's just great." Colin stepped forward, gesturing towards Morgana. "I'm so glad there's a voice of reason here because I think Bradley's fucking lost it."

"I'm not crazy," Arthur snapped. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you may think I'm some sort of wizard, but I'm not!" Colin bellowed, his voice wavering a bit. Arthur could see through the tough exterior he had built; the foundation was slowly cracking, breaking his world.

"Sorcerer, then," Arthur said. "We know about your magic."

Colin shook his head slowly, eyes flashing wildly. "You're crazy, you're all crazy."

"We know, Colin." This time it was Lancelot who spoke. "I've known for a while—ever since I found you behind the club when you were running from Tom."

Colin narrowed his eyes, suspicions brewing within him. "Is that why you saved me that night? Because you thought I was some ancient wizard?"

"That's not the only reason—" But Colin stalked towards him, hands curling into tight fists, and Arthur stepped between them, unsure of how to handle a volatile teenager who was also the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the Earth.

"Was everything a lie?" Colin whispered hoarsely, eyes glittering with an emotion that Arthur couldn't quite place. All he knew was that it was hurting him to watch his friend fall apart. "All of it… Just some way to get me here?"

"We mean what we said," Gwen replied, lips pursed in a thin line. "You are our friend, Merlin—"

"Just stop calling me that, please!" Colin whirled around to face her, gaze skittering across the room as he stared at everyone like a lost, lonely child. "I'm not M-Melrin. I'm not some ancient wizard. My name is Colin, and I'm some sort of freak with abilities that can kill people! I'm a person that no one ever wanted—"

"Just shut up!" Arthur yelled back, striding towards Colin. "You were wanted! You're still wanted!"

"My own mother didn't want me!"

Silence fell upon the two, and Colin shook his head, running a pale hand through his dark hair. He gripped it by the roots in efforts to channel his frustration at the current situation, but all he succeeded in doing was drawing out a small grunt of pain. Arthur wanted to reach out and comfort his friend, but he knew any touch might set Colin off.

"Colin, listen to me—" Arthur began once more only to have the teenager chuckle darkly.

"You… You think you can make me understand…" Colin's voice trailed off as he lost himself in his own thoughts. "B-But you can't. You never will. I understand everything."

"Colin!"

Colin began to ramble hysterically. "You want to use me for my abilities, my magic. That's all you want. That's all you ever wanted. You tried to lead me into some cult of some kind, but I won't fall for it. You are crazy and need help. You're a freak! Believing that you're freaking King Arthur… You're the one people need to watch out for! I need to leave. I need to get out of here—"

"I'm crazy?" Something snapped inside him, and Arthur's frustration came flooding out. "You're the one with the fucking magical powers!"

Arthur watched as Colin appeared to crumble in on himself. "And I have to live with that! I've known that since I was a kid, Bradley, you're not saying anything I don't already know."

"Look, I'm sorry," Arthur began, but Colin was already gathering his coat from the back of the couch, bundling it up against his chest, and heading for the door. "Colin, Colin, wait!"

"Have a nice life," he spat frigidly over his shoulder. "I hope you find a Merlin to go with your twisted, crazy game. I'm so fucking done here."

The door slammed shut behind him, reverberating through the apartment and pounding through their heads with a note of finality. No one dared to move, no one dared to speak. It wasn't until Guinevere came behind him, arms looped around his waist, as she pressed her face against the back of his shirt. He could fear the wetness of her tears through the fabric, a drip drip drip that broke his heart further.

"I lost him," he said. "You told me to wait, and I didn't…"

"No one blames you, Arthur," she whispered softly. "We'll find a way around it. We always do. We'll find Elyan, we'll save you, Merlin'll remember."

"I hope you're right, Guinevere."

"I always am," she told him, smiling into his shoulder. A light sniffle, hands fidgeting to swipe furiously under her eyes, she huddled closer to him, if that was even possible. He was one thing she refused to let go. "I know you feel like there's no hope, but I promise you, there is."

"Merlin can't remember," he said, heart in his throat. "Morgana can't find Elyan; she can barely stay awake. How can we have hope when there's none to be found?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line, a stricken expression adjourning her face. "Promise me, Arthur, that you won't go after Morgause alone."

There was silence, and all she could do was hug him closer. Asking him not to sacrifice himself was like asking a wall not to stand tall.

Outside, the sun embraced New York City in its blinding light, warm rays caressing the buildings and cars with its soft glow But, inside that apartment with the legends and knights, the king and queen, the wizards and witches—it had never felt so dark.

There was a pounding at the door.

Gaius could barely stand on shaky legs to open it, fear bubbling in his chest at the thought of Colin, Colin, did something happen to Colin before the door was thrown open with a force hard enough to send it banging off the wall, stopped only by a hand before it collided with his son. He breathed out a sigh of relief, a laugh falling from his lips as he moved forward to embrace him, only wanted to hug him close and pretend that he hadn't spent the night worrying about Colin's absence.

"No," Colin whispered suddenly, skittering back a few steps. "Don't touch me right now, really, please."

Gaius closed the door gently behind him as Colin walked into the room, eyes frantically glancing around the room as if he were searching for something he'd never seen before. "Are you alright?" Gaius asked softly. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Colin whirled around, gaze resting on his hands which were clasped tightly on his sides. "You said you've known Bradley for a while, yeah?"

"I worked with his father for ages," he told him, reaching for a chair to sit in and gesturing for Colin to do the same. "He's the one who helped with your adoption case, remember?"

"Of course," Colin assured him. "I remember, that's why I'm asking. You know him well—and Bradley—you've known them for years." Gaius nodded slowly, unsure of where the teenager was taking this, but Colin only blew out a shaky breath before continuing. "Have… Has Bradley ever shown signs of being… sick?"

"Is he alright?" Gaius asked, the instincts he'd never buried deep for Arthur's well-being flaring at the sign of something being wrong.

"Then is he mentally sane?" Colin asked frantically, hands flailing wildly in front of him as panic began to sink in. He looked as if he was search desperately for answers that he knew he could never find. "Ever spout some nonsense about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table."

Gaius pressed his lips together, sighing to himself, and leaned further back in his chair. Colin, ever on his guard, didn't fail to notice his reaction. Eyebrows arched high in confusion, eyes wide with concern, he duck his head, nodding for his guardian to elaborate.

"So he has, you've heard him," Colin supplied. "Is he being treated for him? Is he okay?"

"What happened last night?" Gaius asked instead, and it threw the teenager off-kilter. "What did you hear?"

"I heard everything," Colin quipped, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "He got some weird phone call from someone named Morgause who started spouting nonsense about killing him, and she… Richard, she knew about me and Michelle! Bradley… Angel, Katie… Santiago, even! They know about my magic! They think I'm Merlin!"

"So they told you," Gaius affirmed.

Colin merely nodded. "They were crazy, and I couldn't get out of there fast enough. Richard, they need help, a doctor or someone."

"Things must have gotten very bad if Arthur told you," Gaius realized, voice heavy in fear and reluctant acceptance. "He may be a careful boy, but he never has patience in the face of disaster."

"…What did you say?" Colin's voice was fragile, as if a small wind would blow him over.

Gaius sighed. "I suppose it's time you know if Morgause is involved."

Colin clenched his hands into tight fists, fingernails digging into the heel of his palms. "You can't, Richard. You… You just can't be one of them… Not you too, please, not you." His baritone voice wavered as the elder man refused to acknowledge the please, eyes closed in reluctant denial. "You… Is that why you took me in?"

"I saw you, Colin, and I knew who you were. I knew it. You look just like you did in the past, as Merlin, and your magic only proved that." The younger male felt a tear prick in the corner of his eyes, and his whole body trembled. "You are Emrys, Colin, and you always have been." Colin swallowed thickly at Richard's words; his entire world had come slippery as he began to lose his grip on reality. "I took you in because I knew you needed my help, or you would never achieve your destiny."

"So I was a necessity?" Colin's expression morphed into one of betrayal and rage. "You never wanted me! You just wanted someone to morph into a character of your... delusion!" Richard made a move to protest, but Colin interrupted him. "Who else is in on this? Bradley? Angel? Katie?"

When Richard remained silent, Colin threw his hands into the air in exasperation. "She can't be! If she was, you're all under the delusion she's Morgana of all people! She can't be, though, because the legend says she's evil, but Katie is one of the kindest people I've ever met—and that says a lot because I don't meet many!"

"She was a work in progress," Gaius told him.

Colin pushed himself to his feet, already fumbling with his words. "I won't listen to this. Not from you—especially not from you."

Panic sparked the edges of his frayed nerves, and Gaius made a move to grab his wrist, but he only caught air as Colin slipped through his fingers. "Wait, Colin, don't go!"

"I won't listen, I refuse!"

"You can't leave. Tom is still—!"

Colin whirled around to face him, eyes a mess of tears and sadness, clinging to the only sane thing he still had as panic set in. "At least he wants me!" he snarled. "Whether it's to kill me, at least he knows who I am. Some fucked up foster kid."

"Colin—"

"You all need help, you all need help," Colin muttered under his breath.

He reached for the door, flinging it open with a bang, before he took off down the sidewalk before Gaius had a chance to respond.

In that clinic, a broken old man felt his world shatter for a second time.

A few blocks down, a king lost the battle for the second time.

Some streets over, a little boy was running scared from the monsters that haunted his dreams—and the truth that followed over his like a ghost.

Across the city, on a worn old helipad, standing over the East River, a witch smiled as she stared at the blossoming morning sky. She would win the second time around; there was no denying it.

The pieces were in place.

Let the games begin.