"If I die young, bury me in satin."
Merlin sighed as the depressing music played. So much had happened.
"Lay me down on a bed of roses."
Arthur was gone again, lost. It was all his fault. He should've done something – anything – and he could've. He was just a fool. He didn't use his magic when he should've. He used it for pranks in the past, for pretty magic tricks – but did he use it to save a life, his King's life? No.
"Sink me in the river, at dawn."
He felt hollow, empty. There was no light in the world.
Arthur had been young, too. Only thirteen, going on fourteen. He was going to start high school the next year. He'd had his whole life ahead of him.
"Send me away with the words of a love song…."
Merlin cursed at his iPod's song choice, though he didn't change it. It had been three days since Arthur had passed, and all his apple product seemed to do was play upsetting music. Sure, he really wasn't in the mood for those pointless peppy and cheery songs, but each and every one of them seemed to fit the situation. He didn't even remembering downloading half of these songs.
Oh. Oh.
Then he remembered. Arthur had snagged his iPod once and downloaded a bunch once as a surprise. Most of the songs had been questionable, (like the one about a fox and what it says; Merlin really didn't get that one…) but some had been decent.
The warlock smiled at the memory before the stabbing pain in his chest took over. Arthur was gone. Lost. Dead. The smiled diminished and he started sobbing.
Merlin took a shaky swig from the bottle that hadn't left his hand since he'd gotten out of bed (not that he'd been sleeping….).
Arthur was gone. Again. And it was Merlin's fault. Again.
He should've seen it coming. It all started when Arthur was nine.
They'd been playing in the backyard. A game of tag, if Merlin remembered correctly. Arthur had been "it" and chasing Merlin around the spacious area. Since Merlin had longer legs, he could run a bit faster than the little boy. He would've slowed down a bit, as in actually giving Arthur a chance, but the tiny prat had been, well, a prat. He would give Arthur a chance when he deserved one.
"C'mon, Arthur," he had said, noticing at one point that the blondie hadn't been at his heels. "I'll slow down if you nee – holy shit!"
As he turned, he saw Arthur practically purple in the face, on the ground. He rushed over, noticing that the little boy's breaths were wet and short, and almost like he was hyperventilating.
"Arthur!"
Merlin fell to his knees, ignoring the dull pain that came with it. His hands flew to Arthur's chest, trying to remember any medical training he'd picked over the years. At first his mind was blank, until he actually remembered he had lived with a physician at Camelot.
But how in the hell was he supposed to remember stuff he learned thousands of years ago?!
"Sh, Arthur," he had said, trying to calm the little boy down. Arthur had tears running down his face. He was in pain.
"Mer – wheeze –lin?"
"Shhh," the warlock said again, really at a lost at what to do. He tried to sit Arthur up, but noticed that it looked like he was suffocating more, so Merlin let the boy lay down.
After a while that seemed like an eternity, Arthur's breathing finally calmed down. He got up shakily, Merlin supporting him and they both walked inside.
Merlin had kept a close arm around Arthur as they both sat down on the couch, and Arthur seemed to sag against him as he closed his eyes.
"Can you tell me a story, Merlin?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "One of ours?"
Merlin nodded. "Sure. Of course."
Merlin was never quite sure what Arthur meant by "one of ours" except the fact that they happened in Camelot. He hoped that it meant that Arthur was remembering a bit more (nothing except randomly breaking into old English had happened since he was seven), but it also could mean something else entirely.
He decided to not question it. Life for him was long enough without him asking pointless questions.
So, Merlin began telling the story of the time they went searching for the Fisher King's trident. (He modified it here or there, though, so Arthur didn't look so oblivious to Morgana's treachery and Merlin's magic.) They thought nothing of the breathing incident until a few years later.
It had been about two years, to be exact, until the topic had been brought back up again. Arthur had signed up for basketball (two years later they found out he liked football better, but that's not the point), and was having one of his first practices. Merlin hadn't really been paying much mind to what was happening on the court, but as soon as the coach started storming over to him, he stood at attention.
"Look at Arthur, dammit! The boy's not breathing right, have you ever had him checked for asthma?!"
With a closer inspection, Merlin did see that something was wrong. Arthur was there on the court, he was moving a little, but every one of his movements seemed labored. He was panting more than the other boys and, well, he really didn't seem to be playing.
The coach yelled at Merlin a bit more, and made it clear that Arthur should see a doctor.
The next day, Uther gave permission (he was Arthur's father, after all) and Merlin took Arthur to an asthma specialist.
The test results came back positive.
At first, Arthur had been terrified at the thought of having a breathing problem. Slowly and gently, Merlin had explained it was easily treated with an inhaler and he would never really be harmed by it. And Arthur believed him.
Flash forward two years, and there they were. Arthur had woken up that morning, but hadn't gone to sleep that night. He'd gone to sleep forever.
"Merliiiiiiiiiin," the teenager groaned as the warlock tugged his covers off. With a grin, Merlin walked over to the curtains, and pulled them open as well, making the bright sunshine fill the room.
Arthur sat up, rubbing his eyes and glaring at his babysitter – I mean, person who watched out him. He was a little old for a "babysitter" now.
"Merlin, it's Saturday. Aren't I allowed to sleep in?"
"It's already 10:45."
Arthur pouted. "Any time before twelve is early."
Merlin rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed next to the boy he had watched grow up. "Arthur, we have a big day of doing nothing," the warlock said. "Do you really think you need more sleep?"
Arthur snorted and ignored the last comment. "A big day of doing nothing, huh?"
Merlin nodded. "Yep. We can watch movies, play some video games, or I can show you some internet videos that we will both agree not to tell you father about –"
"What, like, porn?" Arthur said hopefully.
Merlin scrunched his nose. "Ew. No. What is it with middle schoolers and their obsession with the genitalia?"
Arthur snorted and stood up, heading towards his closet. The thing about this Arthur and the original was that this one could dress himself.
Merlin decided to give him some privacy, and went into kitchen to prepare some breakfast. Arthur followed him a few minutes later.
"Mmm, pancakes," he muttered as Merlin placed a plate in front of him. The warlock (who, by the way, still looked like he was eighteen. He forgot to use a spell to make him "age" over the years) leaned over while putting the food down, and planted a small kiss to the teenage boy's cheek. Arthur blushed beet-red.
While Arthur had been a very affectionate child, he was a little begrudging to even allow such things as hugs as a teen. Merlin just teased him by acting all lovey-dovey.
The day went on as usual; they watched TV until their eyes fell out, they looked at some online videos Uther probably wouldn't approve of (Not porn, though. It was just cursing.), and ate a bunch of junk food they probably didn't need. In short, it was heaven.
By late afternoon, both of them were tired (doing nothing is actually quite exhausting, especially if you don't get to do it often like Merlin and Arthur.) and Arthur was feeling less scornful towards affection. He was curled against Merlin's side on the couch with his head resting on the warlock's shoulder. Merlin smiled internally, but wouldn't make a comment on this later to embarrass.
"Should we do something productive today?" Merlin asked.
"Nope," was Arthur's reply.
"Do you mind getting up, though?"
"Why?"
"I have to pee."
"Ugh, Merlin. TMI."
The warlock laughed and Arthur sat up off of him. Quickly, he headed to the bathroom.
When he headed out, though, he narrowed his eyes. He was on alert, or at least his body was, but he wasn't quite sure why….
"Merlin!" Arthur yelled as he almost literally popped out of nowhere, efficiently scaring Merlin. The warlock nearly jumped at least three feet in the air. His frightened expression had Arthur laughing.
Which of course made Merlin laugh, and of course that made Arthur laugh harder. Everything seemed fine at the moment.
But have you ever heard the term "laughter kills"?
A/N: Well, lookie what we have here. Characters, this wasn't suppose to happen. There was suppose to be a few more chapters before this ever happened. Fingers, why did you type this? Keyboard, screen, why did you allow this? Words, why did you make me do this?
Well, guys, your favorite b*tch is back! And look what she wrote...it's not according to plan. I'm sorry. You are all allowed to scream at me and give me death threats. *hangs head in shame*
Sorry for it being late. Excuses: Honors classes, Student Council, school in general, writer's block, and very f*cked up internet connection.
So, it had come to this. Only a few more chapters left. And the next one's going to be really short too.
Oh, and thanks for reviewing/fav-ing/following everyone! I love you all with the intensity of a thousand burning suns!
May the magics forever be in your favor!
