Disclaimer: IDOM

Okay, so it's pretty much this point in the story where I run out of things to say in my AN, and I just babble incoherently about nothing and expect you all to be so enthralled that you like this more than the fic. Well guess what? I just babbled incoherently about nothing, but I'm sure you'll like this chapter better than this useless AN, so I apologize for wasting your time. xD

*exaggerated drum-roll*

Chapter 3: Something Lost and Something Found

Merlin awoke the sound of birdsong outside the window above his head. Slowly, he opened his glazed blue eyes, and his pupils dilated as golden sunlight poured into them. He smiled minutely to himself at the green leaves that tapped against the window next to his bed. The warlock felt a flutter in his stomach as the small breeze tickled his face, and he remembered that he'd cracked the window because of the promise for good weather last night. Yesterday's rainstorm had done a good job of clearing the air, and the day after rain is always the best.

But then Merlin was startled to find that he himself was feeling better than usual. He... felt something. It didn't particularly have to do with the weather, or the sweet birdsong outside, or... Merlin didn't necessarily know, but he found himself grinning at the blue sky and green foliage outside, genuine pleasure and almost... cheer coursing through his system, the likes of which he hadn't felt in a very long time.

The warlock cupped the back of his head with one hand and laid the other across his stomach, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of fresh air rolling off the lake, tinged with the lavender he grew -for Guinevere of course- in his yard, before exhaling slowly. Peace and contentment coursed through him, and he smiled to himself as he opened his kaleidoscopic blue eyes again and pushed back the bedclothes. He swung his legs out, needing to untangle the sweatpants he was wearing from the sheets, and slipped his feet into his blue slippers before they could be touched by the no doubt cold wooden floors.

He stood up and stretched, relishing how it felt, before relaxing again and adjusting his maroon coloured tee, pulling it back down from where it had slipped above his waistline. He glanced at the digital clock behind him, surprised to find that it was already nine in the morning. Usually he was awake by sunrise, if not earlier. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd slept in.

His smile widened further, and he practically skipped to the circular staircase that lead downstairs. His foot slipped on the final step, and he stumbled before catching himself again. His hand rested on the back of the chair he'd stumbled into while he grinned humorously at his own clumsiness. And when he heard Arthur's voice calling him an 'idiot,' Merlin felt a rush of brotherly affection and fondness sweep through him.

Then he stopped cold.

He stood up to his full height and put a hand on his heart, thinking about Arthur, and Gwen, and all his friends and family from before. He felt his heartbeat, a gentle thud-thud-thud within his chest, and he felt the more subtle beat of his special magic -the magic that had been at the forefront of his whole being since Arthur had passed; the force keeping him alive all these years- but he didn't feel any pain. And he always felt pain when he thought of his past. He always felt a longing and a sadness and a tiny sliver of hope, which is what kept him going, but he didn't feel any of it.

No, he just felt happy. For the first time in decades, he felt genuinely happy, maybe even carefree. Maybe it was a good sign? He was sure something had changed, but he didn't know what. He didn't know what it meant, or why he felt that way, he just did, and he'd learned long ago to enjoy something while you have it.

So, still smiling, he fumbled around his kitchen for something to eat, leaving his fireplace unlit and instead, opening the windows as a blithe breeze gently ruffled his curtains. He prepared some eggs with some grape sized tomatoes on the side and ate quickly, for absolutely no reason. Then Merlin found himself with two full hours before he was supposed to meet the Commissioner at Scotland Yard. He decided that, like John had said, he might as well pick up his check at the hospital.

Merlin ran back upstairs and changed into well-fitting denim jeans, a charcoal grey, long-sleeve shirt that he pulled up to the elbow before running back downstairs and grabbing his black cashmere jacket just in case it got cold later. And then, for the first time in months, he found himself calling for a cab to drive him into London before picking up his sketchbook.

When the yellow vehicle parked outside his house and honked fifteen minutes later, he rushed to the bathroom and ran a comb through his ebony shaded hair before -being unhappy with the plain style- ruffled it with his hand. He smiled as it stuck up in the front a bit, like it used to back in Camelot, and felt, for the first time that day, a small bout of nostalgia. His smile faltered in the mirror, and he found himself staring back at his own reflection... but it wasn't at the same time.

It was the same face, with the same features: soaring cheekbones, full lips, messy eyebrows, but the eyes were different. They were older. Not in the sense that there were wrinkles around his eyes like a normal person would get as they age, but in the sense that behind his guarded irises, he held more years, more history, than anyone on earth.

But for some reason, even that couldn't ruin the strange peace Merlin felt today. So when the cab driver honked again impatiently, Merlin found himself running back to the living room, eyes roving over the unfinished paintings and sketches he often occupied himself with, and grabbing his jacket from the back of an armchair before rushing out the door, he locked the structure with a quick flick of his wrist. He piled into the back of the ebony cab, still fumbling into his cashmere jacket, and called, "Thames Memorial, please."

The cabbie nodded, saying nothing, and drove down the bumpy road. The trip was uneventful and took nearly twenty minutes. When they finally arrived at the hospital, Merlin climbed out, paid his dues, and let him drive off. The sound of chatting and laughter filled Merlin's ears as he walked around people who had gathered within the hospitals large courtyard, and he found himself smirking at the familiarity of it all.

The warlock pushed the glass door open and entered the hospital, the smell of scented sanitizer and cleaning supplies filling his nostrils immediately, and he smiled at the receptionist as he walked towards her.

"Just here to pick up my check, Grace," he said simply.

The blonde smirked at him and reached under the desk, pulling out a white envelope as she commented, "Heard it's your last."

He nodded. "Something came up."

"Well, I'll see you around, I guess."

Merlin nodded his head again and walked away, folding the thin paper in half before shoving it into his jacket pocket as he walked out of the hospital and hailed another cab. Once one pulled over, he saw that his watch already said eleven-thirty, and Merlin asked the driver to take him to Scotland Yard.

The ride there was as pleasant as the ride before: peaceful and quiet except for the rush of other cars and the subtle sound of the engine. Merlin briefly wondered when he'd gotten so used to driving in cars, especially considering where he came from, and it made his lips flicker with amusement.

The black car pulled up to the curb minutes later, and Merlin handed him some bills before climbing out, huddling into his cashmere jacket and shoving his hands in his pocket when a cold breeze flew by. If there was one thing he'd learned in all his years, it was that weather was fickle and childish. He thought so anyway, and it made his smile broaden a little more as his stomach fluttered.

Merlin looked around the bustle of people on the wide sidewalk, and the large courtyard before he examined the building itself. It hadn't changed a bit since he'd been here last: same tall, imposing structure, creative architecture, and artwork from a local university planted outside. He thought that, if anything had changed, it was the feeling he got: usually he felt an ominous mystery to the place, like walking into an abandoned building, but now... He felt his stomach flicker with life again and fidgeted at the almost... excited feeling his magic was pouring into his veins.

He closed his sky coloured eyes, and, as if his magic was something completely separate from him, Merlin asked, "What is it?" And then, as if in answer, his magic seemed to jump and burst with glee like a small child keeping a secret from their parents, and Merlin felt the urge to both let out a laugh and scrunch his brow with confusion.

So instead, he just smiled and walked into Scotland Yard. Even though he knew the way to John's office, he stopped by reception and told him he was here to meet him. The receptionist gave him directions and pointed him to the lifts. Merlin smiled politely and walked away as she finished and grabbed the bulky grey door to the lift just as it was closing. He sidled his way in and then let the door close fully before trying to fix his ruffled hair and pressing the button for the third floor.

The lift moved downwards, so Merlin guessed that at least one of the lift's four other occupants were going to the basement -where they kept the records evidence, among other less than happy things- and as the lift continued to descend, their gossip about a group of people reached his keen ears.

"No, you're thinking of the other one," one woman said, ruffling through her purse. "The one with the long hair."

The tall man beside her scrunched his brow, rocking on his feet. "But I thought she liked -"

Another woman, the youngest of the four, Merlin thought, leaned forward to look at her friend's face. "- the Inspector."

The shorter man beside her, who had his jacket hanging over one arm, slouched against the wall before jumping forward when the bell dinged and the doors slide open. All four of them, still gossiping, got off, and when the thick doors slid shut once more, Merlin let out a relieved breath that he was alone.

The lift jerked, and he was pulled up by the steel cords that held the box in place, and the warlock closed his eyes and felt the lift jerk once more as he reached his floor. The doors slid open, and quiet chatting filled his ears as he entered the white walled hallway. He turned to his right, following the signs until he reached what appeared to be the secretary's desk. He looked around but didn't see anyone, only a sign that said, 'Out to lunch - Be back 12:00.'

Merlin glanced at his watch -it was eleven-fifty now- and fixed his jacket once more before he noticed that the door to John's office was ajar. He scrunched his brow and walked towards it, then grabbed the handle and opened it slowly, peering inside.

"John?"

A slurping sound. "Merlin?" The warlock grinned and walked completely in as the smile on his friends face grew too. "Good to see you."

Merlin walked over and shook his outstretched hand from where he stood on the other side of his old wooden desk. "And you. Lunch break?"

John gestured to the chair Merlin stood in front of, and they both sat at the same time. The Chief Inspector ran a hand through his thin hair, blue eyes twinkling. "Yep. Have you eaten?"

Merlin let out a small chuckle, only just feeling his stomach rumble at the sight of his friend's ham sandwich in front of him. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I must have forgotten."

The elder man laughed. "Here," he said, reaching below his desk and grabbing something. "Eat this. I thought you might be hungry."

Merlin smiled gratefully at his friend and unwrapped the sandwich. "Thanks, John." The Commissioner smiled and took another bite out of his sandwich as Merlin dug into his. "So what's the name of this guy I'm partnering up with?"

"Bradley," he offered. "Well, that's his proper name, but no one ever calls him that."

Merlin's ebony brow scrunched with amusement. "Then what does everyone -"

A small buzz sounded, then static. "John?"

Merlin's mind froze at the familiarity of the voice, and his body tensed as he held back a flinch.

The Commissioner smirked at Merlin, unaware of what he was feeling. "That'll be them, I think." Then, leaning down towards his phone, he pressed a glowing red button. "Yes?"

"Arthur and his team are here to see you."

The warlock felt his breath catch in his throat and felt his magic thrumming uncontrollably beneath his suddenly paled skin. It couldn't be a coincidence -Morgana and Arthur, and his team. Merlin's beryl colored eyes remained locked on the phone as his hand clenched in his jacket pocket.

"Perfect," John replied, his smile growing. "Send them in." There was a second more of feedback static before the line went dead.

Merlin's breath returned to him, coming rapidly through his nose, and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears as his stomach churned and burned with fear and anticipation. Could this really be him? Them? After all this time? After all these long years of waiting, was his patience finally going to pay off? Would he have his friend's back? But then traces of doubt swam through his mind as he thought that, if they were truly back, wouldn't they have contacted him?

The door clicked, opening, and John stood. Merlin was finally broken out of his hazy trance and, body still rigid and reluctant to move, jumped up with him, turning around to face what he'd been waiting for over a thousand years.

His vision was clearer, it seemed, than it had ever been before because Merlin had never wanted anything so badly, so when Arthur, his Arthur -his Gwaine, Leon, Percival, and Elyan- came in the room, he felt joyous tears pushing at the backs of his ever-widening, stunned eyes. He felt the blood drain from his face, and felt lightheaded with glee and joy as shock took over his systems and his mind froze.

They were back! Arthur's fair hair and sharp features, Leon's kind, trustworthy face, Percival's strong jawline, Elyan's sparkling eyes, and Gwaine's friendly smile all ran through Merlin's mind, and it was all he could do to stop himself from running to his friend's and hugging all of them. They were here... they were back... They were really here.

But then Merlin's heart fell the tiniest bit as he saw that Arthur's sky blue eyes were filled with confusion, longing, and a sense of abounding joy, sparkled with sudden tears, showed no real sense of recognition ... And neither did the others. There was a light, yes, as if the familiarity of another person was uncanny, and it seemed as though they too, were poised to jump, but there wasn't a hint at the brothership they'd shared, the adventures they'd had, and Merlin's suddenly guarded eyes were filled with sadness as Arthur stepped forward, hand outstretched.

"Do I know you?" he asked, grinning politely even though Merlin could see the conflict behind his eyes.

Merlin felt an arrow pierced his heart at the familiarity of his voice - the voice he'd been waiting much too long to hear; the voice that had been ingrained in his mind from when Arthur thanked him for what he had done, the voice that comforted him when he'd have nightmares from lives long past, the voice that hadn't changed in fifteen hundred years. The warlock stepped forward and clasped his slender hand around Arthur's, and at the touch, Merlin's magic jumped again, but it only made Merlin feel more sad that this man had no idea...

The warlock wanted so much to answer, "Yes! We're friends, Arthur, brothers! We fought dragons together, fought immortal armies! How can you not remember? You died in my arms..."

But no, he couldn't say that, not without everyone thinking he was mad. So instead, he, as usual, hid his inner pain and spoke in the most forcibly controlled voice he could manage. "No, I don't think so."

Arthur pulled his hand back again, a small smile flickering on his lips as he adjusted the button-up shirt he was wearing. "Hm, well you look horribly familiar from somewhere."

Merlin forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Just got one of those faces, I guess."

Suddenly Gwaine, with an amused look at Arthur, stepped forward and shook Merlin's hand too, introducing himself. "Ignore the Princess," he grinned. "He's not very good with introductions. Name's Eoin Macken, but call me Gwaine."

"Alright," Merlin's voice cracked as he eyed the man who used to be his best friend, one of the only people who ever tried to understand him, and he cleared his throat as his forced smile flickered. "Gwaine it is." And the barest flicker of pain flickered in him at the name said aloud. Usually, the name, any of their names, brought pain, but seeing them here... everything was already changing.

The sergeant quickly started pointing out the others as they too stepped forward to shake his hand. "Well, you've already met the Princess -Bradley James, but everyone just calls him Arthur. And that's Tom, but he goes by Percival. Don't worry; he's not nearly as intimidating as he looks. I once caught him -"

"Oi!"

"And this is Rupert, but he goes by Leon, and, last but not least, this is Adet, which in itself is a nickname, but everyone still just calls him Elyan."

The warlock nodded at him as he let go of Elyan's hand, and put his own hand back in his jacket pocket. "My name's Mer- Colin -Colin Jones."

Merlin caught the tiniest flicker of... something pass through Gwaine and Arthur's eyes at his stumble, and an equal amount of hope flared in the warlock's chest.

"Mer- Colin it is then," Gwaine smiled, pulling on his brown tee shirt. That's when Merlin felt a genuine smile pulling at his insides, twisting them until he outwardly grinned with fond remembrance and amusement.

John finally came out from behind his desk, hands in his pockets while he grinned. "Good, everyone knows everyone."

"Hey, Commissioner," Leon started, crossing his arms as his mouth was pulled into an amused smile. "How is it that you know Colin anyway?"

"That's John to you, Leon," the Commissioner quipped laughingly, and then, with a look of fondness directed at the warlock, he added, "We go way back; other missions and things."

"Arthur told us that bit," Gwaine commented. "Anything else?"

"John also worked with my father in the past," he lied, seeing John floundering for words. Just that sent a stream of guilt to his heart.

"I knew it!" Gwaine jumped.

Elyan's brow scrunched in amusement. "Knew what?"

"That picture...," Gwaine tried, frantically searching John's office. "There was a picture, and he," pointing at Merlin, "looked like a guy in it. I bet that's why we recognized him."

Merlin had other ideas about why they recognized him but kept it to himself. He looked curiously at John just as Gwaine jumped again and reached for a framed black and white picture on a shelf. He pulled it down and brought it over towards the gathered group, and Merlin craned his neck to look at it sideways.

"See?" he tried.

Merlin chuckled. It was an old picture of him, the Commissioner, and a few other members of their old team grinning at the camera from where they stood outside a tavern. Merlin remembered it had been taken sometime in the eighties, and he also remembered that that was the first time he had loosened up in a long while.

"Whoa," John laughed, "I'd forgotten I had this."

"Me too," Merlin grinned.

They passed the picture around, and when Arthur got to it, Merlin saw something else settle in his ocean eyes, a sadness that was raw and deep, but then, when Arthur blinked, it was gone, and he set the picture back on the shelf.

"So what now?" Perce asked.

John smirked. "Now, you go check out some things."

Gwaine grinned. "You got us a case?"

The Commissioner nodded. "Of sorts, yes," he teased. Then he went on to explain, everyone leaning forward with anticipation. Merlin smirked at their enthusiasm, thinking that some things never changed. "There was a break-in at the Thames Museum last night. I sent some uniforms down to take statements, but I thought you guys could go see likely cause, motive, and check back again to see if anything was stolen. Last time they said they'd have to do inventory first."

"Great!" Gwaine exclaimed.

"But," John added, "I'm only sending three of you."

Gwaine's face fell. "What?"

"I'm sending the other three to another museum on the other side of London which has the same problem."

Arthur crossed his arms, face changing from patient silence to curiosity. "Two museums in one night?"

Leon frowned. "You think there's a connection?"

The Commissioner nodded. "Probably. But in any case, I want you six out at the museums. Colin, you'll work with Arthur and -"

"Me!"

John grinned and cocked an eyebrow. "Fine, Gwaine, you go with them. That leaves Leon, Percival, and Elyan to take the other one." He filled them in on what else he knew so far before sending them off and shuffling them all out of his office.

It was then that Merlin's magic jumped once more and he felt a small amount of anticipation and fear for his friends, as well as anger, and he remembered the voice he'd heard over the speaker in John's office: Morgana. But when they exited the office, the warlock saw that the secretaries desk was, once again, vacant, and the relief he'd felt allowed him to breathe again. At least he wouldn't have to face her yet, memories or no.

When they got to the lift, they all rode down to the main floor and said their goodbyes before going their separate ways.

"I'm driving!" Gwaine exclaimed.

Arthur rolled his eyes and gave Merlin a grin that was almost like what it used to be while pulling the keys out of his pants pocket. "No, Gwaine, I'm driving. We don't to kill Colin on his first day, now do we?"

Gwaine just snorted and climbed in the back, and Merlin smiled thankfully as he climbed into the passenger side seat of the black SUV. The engine thrummed, Arthur changed gears, and as the car started forward, Merlin couldn't help but be reminded of Camelot and smiled out the car window as he remembered their other adventures, and, so naturally, the warlock wondered what new ones they'd have.

...So I really hope that you liked that way better than the AN, because if you didn't, I'm a hopeless writer. :P Haha, but I really do hope that you liked it. I think this was among one of the harder chapters to write because I wanted to get the reunion right, and yet still have a little err in it, you know? I don't even know what I'm trying to say, so don't feel bad. :P Geez, you know, if someone could just send me a pot of coffee, that would be wonderful...

Okay, school starts in a week and a half, and it's my senior year! Woohoo! I don't know why I'm announcing it, but what the heck? ;)

Also, remember, carinims01 on Tumblr... there are Merlin and DW edits. :D

That's enough babbling. ;) Please review!